


Destiny (Can't Be) Changed

by Loeka



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Family, Fix-It for the Nibelheim Incident, Friendship, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-09-08 16:54:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 38,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8852842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loeka/pseuds/Loeka
Summary: Sephiroth was still inside the old mansion, as he had been for the past two days. But now Zack had a damn good reason to go see his friend. No matter how much Sephiroth didn't want him to.Zack wasn't feeling helpless anymore.





	1. Chapter 1

**Present**

424\. 425. 426. 427.

Zack Fair continued doing squats, the nervous tension running through him making it impossible to keep still.

Sephiroth was still inside the mansion.

Zack increased his tempo slightly.

Sephiroth was still inside the mansion, he hadn't come out in two days. He'd even commanded Zack to leave when he tried to enter the basement.

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

And Zack didn't know what to do, didn't know how to get through to his friend. Hell, he didn't even understand what was wrong with him in the first place. So Zack did squats, right here in the snow outside the old mansion. It was a useless habit, he knew that. Angeal had long ago taught him other exercises that were actually useful and Zack had thrown himself into them with a fervor. But when he was nervous, he liked to do squats. No matter how useless they were.

479\. 480. 481. 482.

"Do you just not get tired?" Cloud's incredulous question made Zack grin and turn his head towards the infantry soldier standing in front of the rusted fence surrounding the old mansion.

"SOLDIER stamina is awesome," Zack returned in his most serious voice as he continued his squats.

"Apparently," Cloud said, and Zack liked to imagine that he was looking at him in awe. Though with that bucket still on Cloud's head, Zack couldn't know for sure. Well no, he could because SOLDIER senses were awesome like that. But with the bucket obscuring Cloud's expressions, it took some conscious effort to interpret what he was feeling through other means.

Wanting a distraction, Zack made the effort of determining whether he was right by picking through all the scents Cloud was giving off. Zack concluded that he was right, Cloud was looking at him in awe. Though Zack also knew it wasn't aimed at him specifically, just at SOLDIERS in general.

And now Zack needed another distraction. Like wondering why Cloud had refused to take his bucket off ever since they'd gotten here. That was more than a little strange, because this was Cloud's hometown, right? Why didn't he want people to know he was back?

"You sure you want to keep that bucket on?" It wasn't the first time Zack had asked and wouldn't be the last either. Cloud's avoidance of the issue provided a good distraction.

"Very sure," Cloud shot back as he clenched his jaw and his entire body tensed up, just a little.

"But why? Don't you want to inhale that crisp Nibelheim air? Feel its delightful breeze ruffling your hair? You're really missing out here, man," Zack prodded cheerfully.

"No thanks, I like to keep the frostbite to a minimum."

Zack's grin widened at the dry retort, even as Cloud ducked his chin in embarrassment. Cloud Strife, Zack had found, was a rather shy person. However, by now Zack also knew that shyness hid a snarker of epic proportions. Zack was so going to drag him along to Aerith after they got back to Midgar, his girl would adore Cloud.

"You're exaggerating, the wind's great!" Zack happily informed him. He probably wasn't meant to hear the soft snort Cloud let out, but stamina wasn't the only thing the Mako treatments enhanced, not by a long shot.

"Sure, tell the native he's exaggerating," Cloud mumbled, again probably not intended to be overheard. Seeing as Zack was desperate for any distraction, he didn't bother to politely ignore it and jumped on the opening instead.

"Yeah about that, why are you still here? Not that I don't want you here, you're a cool guy," Zack quickly added as Cloud's shoulders tensed up big time. "But this is your hometown, right? Shouldn't you, I don't know, visit your family or something? See old friends? Even your squad mates are taking it easy, chilling at the inn, but you haven't left your post except to eat and sleep!" After he finished talking, Zack took a moment to go over what he'd just said. He grimaced.

Nice going Fair, distract yourself by chasing your distraction away.

"You haven't left either," Cloud pointed out defensively.

"No I haven't," Zack agreed, incredibly glad that he hadn't chased Cloud away. "But someone has to keep an eye on Sephiroth." His own words made Zack scowl. Damn it, he didn't _want_ to think about Sephiroth. Not now.

Zack didn't ever want to feel helpless again.

"Well, those were my orders too and I'm following them." Cloud's stubborn remark pulled Zack from his morose thoughts and made him grin once more.

"How dedicated of you," he shot back playfully, making Cloud duck his chin a little.

Zack halted his squats as he noticed the way Cloud's cheeks became a single shade darker, the added flush having nothing to do with the cold outside. Zack grinned.

Now _this_ was a perfect distraction.

"Not that I blame you, he is the Silver General after all," Zack continued as straightened up and casually leaned against the rusted gate behind him. He was still grinning like mad.

Cloud shrugged, his bucket now aimed towards the road instead of Zack. He kept quiet. Zack's grin grew.

"Of course, it's not like Sephiroth actually needs someone to look out for him. Have you ever seen him fight?" Zack let out a low whistle. "There's being a SOLDIER and then there's being _Sephiroth_. He doesn't fight so much as he dances. It's like watching a work of art, it really is."

Even with the bucket covering Cloud's eyes, Zack could practically feel them shine with pure hero-worship.

 _Definitely_ going to drag him along to see Aerith.

"What do you think?" Zack asked in his most innocent voice as he absently noted a person was slowly moving towards them. The person wasn't within sight yet, but the rhythmic sound of feet crunching snow was distinct.

"He's amazing," Cloud answered with hushed awe. "Fighter. An amazing fighter," he hurriedly tacked on, and Zack valiantly resisted the urge to snicker.

"Absolutely," Zack agreed instead. "Hey, did you see the vid of him taking on that Zolom a few weeks back? Now _that_ was art in motion."

"Yeah," Cloud breathed out, soft enough that Zack never would've been able to catch it without his enhancements. So cute. And so frigging hilarious.

Cloud was a Sephiroth fanboy. A big one too.

Then again, everyone was. With good reason, Sephiroth was _ridiculously_ pretty. Add to that his liquid grace, his commanding presence and all around badassery...

Yeah, everyone was a fan of Sephiroth. Zack was too and he wasn't afraid to admit it. But seeing Cloud all star-struck was just precious. It was a fantastic distraction as well.

"Oh, now here's an idea. After we get back to Midgar, I'll ask Sephiroth to give you some pointers," Zack offered helpfully, not sounding mischievous, nope, not at all.

Cloud's bucket snapped up towards him.

"Pointers? About what?" Cloud demanded, his voice just a little too high. Zack put all his effort into making his expression appear perfectly innocent.

"Sword fighting of course," he answered in a totally casual voice. "He can help you better than I can. I'm a broadsword guy and those aren't that great a weapon for someone of your build. But you want to get into SOLDIER, right? Sword fighting is very important for that. And who better to ask for pointers than the Silver General himself?"

Cloud let out a strangled sound. Zack was proud of himself.

"I– you can't just– _General Sephiroth_ has more important things to do than help someone like me," he insisted, and it made Zack frown.

"Wow, pretty harsh, Cloud. Like I said, you're a cool guy, Sephiroth won't mind. And sure, he's often busy, but not all the time. You'd be doing him a favor really, that man needs to relax more," Zack finished while giving another worried glance towards the mansion.

What was Sephiroth even doing in there?

"You..." Cloud trailed off, apparently at a loss for words, and Zack turned his gaze back towards him with a grin.

"Unless you don't want to help Sephiroth of course," he said in his most innocent voice, no matter that the effect was ruined by his grin.

Cloud let out an actual squeak. Hilariously enough, he sounded like a chocobo chick.

" _Me_ help _the General?_ " Cloud asked in pure disbelief even as there was also a surge of underlying excitement and eagerness.

"Like I said, that man needs to relax more," Zack said, this time making no effort to keep his amusement out of his voice. Cloud trembled ever so faintly with restrained enthusiasm, but after a moment, he ducked his chin and his trembles halted as his embarrassment rose. Zack was pretty certain Cloud's embarrassment was aimed at his own behavior, because he was shy like that.

Seriously, Aerith was going to adore him.

Zack finally turned his gaze away from Cloud and towards the person who was almost upon them. A _very_ old man, wearing a thick jacket against the cold and with his hands shoved in his pockets as deep as they could go, was stomping towards them with a harsh scowl. Zack was pretty sure it was one of the villagers, he vaguely remembered seeing the old man after they'd first arrived here.

As the old man neared, his scowl became even fiercer. Zack's curiosity was roused.

"Hey there! Can I help you?" he called out. From the corner of his vision, he saw Cloud turn his bucket to face the old man as well, before Cloud clutched at his rifle in desperation and he snapped to attention as though facing a drill sergeant. Then he froze, just like that.

Seriously, what was up with him?

The old man didn't answer, just kept stomping towards them until he was close enough that Zack could smell him in all his glory. The old man halted right in front of Zack and gave him wrinkly glare. Zack could literally smell the disgust radiating off him.

"I don't like ShinRa, never have, never will," the old man croaked out. Zack blinked in confusion, not really knowing how to respond to that.

"...Okay?" For some reason, his uncertain answer earned him an even dirtier glare.

"Here," the old man croaked. Zack looked down in confusion as the old man pulled his fist out of his jacket and held it while clutching... a letter? Zack slowly reached out and took hold of the envelope.

"...Thank you?" he returned. The old man's glare became so dirty that Zack truly felt like taking a shower.

"It ain't for you, it's for the General," the old man barked out. Zack's confusion managed to reach even greater heights.

"...Is this some kind of hate mail? Because that's not cool, gramps, not cool at all," he told the old man with a frown. This wouldn't be the first time that happened after all.

The old man let out a disgusted sound in return and gave Zack a look that made him genuinely feel like a worm.

"I don't know what's in it, I didn't write the damn thing. A pregnant woman gave it to me some twenty years ago and wanted me to hold on to it until a silver haired man named Sephiroth came here. I told her to piss off, but she became hysterical, so I said yes just to get rid of her. Forgotten about it for years until you ShinRa stooges showed up, and my damn conscious ain't letting me ignore it. So I'm giving it to you so you can give it to the General. Make sure he gets it, because I'm done with this bullshit."

Before Zack could finish processing that barrage of information, the old man turned around and started stomping back the way he'd come, all the while grumbling about drunken ShinRa stooges.

Zack kept watching the old man's retreating back in confusion. He shifted his gaze towards the envelope in his hand. Returned to watching the old man stomp away as he continued to insult ShinRa under his breath.

Zack gave some serious thought to going after the old man and demanding an explanation that actually made sense.

"Yeah, Old Man Ralof has that effect on people." Cloud's wry statement made Zack turn his gaze towards him, still not exactly sure what had just happened here.

"Is he always like that?" he asked.

"Pretty much. Bit worse because we're with ShinRa, but that sunny personality of his was one of the steady comforts of my childhood," Cloud answered, his inner snark shining through.

"Huh," Zack said as he looked down at the letter. He turned the sealed envelope around. It was completely blank, a little crinkled and yellowed by age. Apparently it was meant for Sephiroth, and had been for some twenty years.

The urge to open it was near impossible to resist. It was only because he could actually hear his mom scolding him for even thinking about it that Zack didn't give in to temptation. However, he could give it to Sephiroth. Should, in fact, if this letter had been meant for him for two decades Sephiroth really did have an immediate right to it.

If Zack was still in the room when Sephiroth read it, well, that was just a happy coincidence, now wasn't it? With any luck, the unexpected delivery would be enough to snap Sephiroth back to normal. At the very least it would be a great distraction from... whatever he was doing.

Zack looked back towards Cloud with a grin.

"Well. Guess we should go deliver this to Sephiroth," he declared. Cloud gave him a hesitant look, the bucket over his head not doing anything to hide his rising uncertainty.

"I don't– I should probably go check on my unit, Old Man Ralof did complain about them being drunk," he said. Zack waved the excuse away and opened the gates. The rusted metal shrieked loudly enough to make him want to wince, but he managed to catch the reflex in time.

"They'll be fine," Zack said as he marched forward. "Besides, they deserve a break after fighting those monsters. Now come on." He looked over his shoulder when Cloud didn't start following and raised a brow. "Let's go, Cloud." he admittedly ordered, not giving Cloud a chance to refuse. It was just, well, Zack would _really_ prefer some company when going to confront Sephiroth. Confronting him alone felt too much like when Angeal–

Cloud hesitated a moment longer, before he sighed softly and fell into a jog to catch up. Zack gave him a reassuring grin and looked back towards the mansion. Zack's grin wavered briefly, but it didn't disappear.

Sephiroth was still inside the mansion. But Zack now had a good reason to go see him, no matter how much Sephiroth didn't want him to.

Zack wasn't feeling helpless anymore.

* * *

**Past**

Lucrecia Crescent looked towards the mansion that would be her home for the foreseeable future. She scowled.

Fucking ShinRa.

Her scowl deepened as she gave the mansion another long look. Lucrecia sighed, closed her eyes and squared her shoulders. She could do this. Just finish the work fucking ShinRa wanted her to do, then she could return home. Even if she didn't have _any_ clue of the kind of work she'd be expected to do, because fucking ShinRa.

Lucrecia opened her eyes, lifted her chin and marched forward. She halted in front of the two guards that stood by the entrance gates, both of them wearing uniforms with name patches. G. Sanders was a mountain of a man with stunning blue eyes. R. Creed on the other hand, was utterly unassuming in every way.

"Doctor Lucrecia Crescent reporting for duty," she declared in her most sarcastic voice. Sanders looked her over from head to toe, composed and professional. Creed was doing a thorough inspection of her breasts, because clearly those were a huge security threat. Especially with the buttoned up coat she was wearing because of the cold.

Fucking ShinRa.

"Your identification, Doctor Crescent," Sanders demanded, curt but not impolite. Lucrecia shifted her hold on her luggage so she could open her satchel. The movements apparently turned her breasts into armed weapons, judging from the attention Creed the goon was now giving them. Had she thought him unassuming before? Right now, he was more slimy than anything else.

Lucrecia opened her satchel and pulled out her legal documents, both her identification papers and the contract fucking ShinRa had so very politely urged her to sign. She handed them over to Sanders, who inspected every page carefully. Creed the goon kept staring at her breasts. Lucrecia scowled and wished she could cross her arms in annoyance. Unfortunately, her luggage was in the way.

Eventually, after enough time had passed that she'd started tapping a foot in impatience, Sanders nodded in approval. "Everything seems to be in order. When you enter, ask for Professor Gast, he's the head of the project and will give you further instructions."

Lucrecia nodded back and put her papers away with some difficulty as Sanders opened the gates. She bit back a vicious insult as Creed the goon kept ogling her chest and resumed her march towards the mansion with her chin held high.

"Bahamut's balls, that is one _fine_ specimen," Creed the goon declared.

"Shut up and do your damn job." The sharp retort from Sanders made her smirk, but it turned into another scowl as she halted in front of the mansion. Lucrecia sighed deeply, before she forced her expression to smooth out.

She could do this.

Lucrecia gathered her courage and rang the bell, though she wasn't able to hear whether it had sounded through the thick doors. She waited.

With a loud groan, one of the doors opened, revealing a young man with brown hair fluffing all over the place. He blinked at her owlishly, his thick glasses making his dark eyes seem incredibly big. Those eyes widened even further as they wandered down her body, before his gaze quickly snapped back up to meet hers, a blush now staining his cheeks. Lucrecia felt a smile grow. This was a kind of appreciation she had no problems with.

"Can I help you?" he asked in a rather nervous voice.

"I'm Doctor Lucrecia Crescent, a scientist assigned to this project," she introduced herself. "I was told to speak to Professor Gast?"

The boy, because mid-twenties or not he was just a boy, gasped loudly and his eyes became so huge they seemed to take over his entire face.

"You– Doctor _Crescent_?"

Lucrecia's smile disappeared and she gave him a wary look, suspicious of his recognition. If this was yet another one of those critics who wanted to laugh at her theories...

"Yes," she answered curtly.

The boy gaped. After a moment, he clicked his jaw shut and shot a hand out to her, radiating nervousness.

"Oh wow, you– I mean, it's an honor to meet you, your paper about C-irregularities influencing resonance fluctuations was _amazing_."

Lucrecia stared, before she threw back her head and laughed, completely caught off guard in the best of ways. This boy was adorable. And a delightful surprise to find in a mansion run by fucking ShinRa. She shifted her luggage to free up one hand so she could take hold of his own, giving it a firm shake.

"Nice to meet you, mister..." She trailed off expectantly.

"Oh! I'm Mike Stephenson. Erhm, Doctor Stephenson, I mean," he finished with a shy smile.

Wait, Doctor _Stephenson?_

"The one who wrote his thesis on the natural formation of Materia, that Doctor Stephenson? The paper categorizing the environmental factors influencing the crystallization process, I mean?" she asked in surprise. That had been a fascinating read, and this boy had written it?

Mike Stephenson burst into flames. Lucrecia grinned.

"You actually read it?" he returned in a breathy whisper. Lucrecia's grin grew.

"I did, with pleasure," she said playfully. Lucrecia watched with amusement as her praise made Mike flush as red as Summon Materia. He continued to stare at her in astonished joy, looking as though he couldn't believe that she'd actually read his thesis, let alone enjoyed it. Lucrecia's grin grew. He was adorable.

She let go of Mike's hand and shifted her weight. Her luggage was becoming uncomfortably heavy. Mike blinked in confusion and looked towards her bags, before his eyes widened into saucers.

"Wait, I'll just– let me take those," he said as he reached forward. Lucrecia chuckled and let him take the large trolley from her hand, but she shook her head as he reached for one of the bags slung over her shoulders. She wasn't an invalid.

"You don't need to take everything, I'm perfectly fine with carrying them myself. Though if you could help me with that trolley, I'd really appreciate it." Because while she wasn't an invalid, she'd brought along a _lot_ of things.

While she didn't know what kind of work she'd be expected to do, Lucrecia had been helpfully informed that this would be a long term project. As in, it would take half a year at the very least, and while fucking ShinRa would provide equipment, housing and food, everything else was on her.

Fucking ShinRa.

"Of course, sure, no problem!" Mike exclaimed, and Lucrecia couldn't help her growing grin. Mike reminded her of the teenagers she taught back home. The non-bratty ones, at least.

"Lead the way," Lucrecia told him.

"Right, this way, we just– oh, you asked for Professor Gast. He's down in the labs, overlooking the final initiation of the equipment," Mike babbled nervously as they entered the foyer. He closed the door behind them as Lucrecia looked around curiously. It was an impressive room, with wide windows letting in a healthy amount of light. Lucrecia tilted her head back to follow the ornate staircase upwards. She tilted it back even further to look up at the large and unbelievably ostentatious crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The light bulbs were glowing brightly, no matter that there was more than enough natural light streaming through the windows. The chandelier was, of course, powered by electricity that was converted from the Mako produced in the nearby Reactor.

Lucrecia idly calculated just how much polluting power that required. The answer?

Fucking ShinRa.

"So... we'll just leave your luggage here and I'll take you to see Professor Gast?" Mike's hesitant question prompted Lucrecia to turn towards him with a wry smile.

"How insulting would it be if I said I don't feel comfortable leaving my things alone in a strange place?" she asked in return. Mike gave her an uncertain look, before he smiled sheepishly.

"I suppose that's normal. Just– if you'll wait here, I'll go inform Professor Gast of your arrival. If that's alright?" he asked, before biting his lip in apprehension. Lucrecia felt her smile soften.

"Thank you, that's very kind," she told him truthfully. In return, Mike's blush flared up again. He cleared his throat, looking even more awkward than before.

"Right, I'll just– I'll go get him then," Mike said as released his grip on her trolley and gave her another shy smile, before he practically tripped over his own feet as he hastily made his way towards one of the doors leading away from the hall. He closed the door behind him. Lucrecia chuckled.

Sweet kid.

She placed her bags and her satchel on the floor next to her trolley and took another look around the room.

The floor was made out of marble, of course it was. So were the pillars spread evenly against the walls, which gave the entire room an impressive feel. The winding staircase was made of a dark wood so polished that it gleamed. It was also covered in carvings, so Lucrecia wandered over to take a closer look. The carvings were extraordinarily detailed, wooden vines twined around the railing with decorative leaves so fine that she could make out the individual veins. Lucrecia turned around and looked towards the windows. The curtains were dyed a crimson so rich they would've looked black if not for the sun gently illuminating them. Most likely high-quality velvet. Or something even more ridiculous, like silk.

At least her prison would be comfortable.

The thought made Lucrecia sigh and close her eyes. She fiddled with her bracelet holding her Barrier Materia, trying to calm down. She needed to stop being so negative. She was overreacting.

Except she was now working for fucking ShinRa, so she absolutely _wasn't_. That wasn't just an ignorant assumption either, it was knowledge gained from personal experience.

Lucrecia groaned, and she heard the sound echo through the foyer.

She could do this. She knew she could.

She just _really_ didn't want to.

Unfortunately, she didn't have a choice. The damn Turk who'd recruited her had pointedly implied that bad things might happen to her research if she didn't cooperate. Maybe even bad things to Lucrecia herself.

Fucking ShinRa.

Lucrecia sighed once more and let her mind wander.

It really was unbelievable just how rapidly the ShinRa Electric Power Company was taking over the Planet. Ever since they'd built their first Mako Reactor, the company had practically exploded overnight, and they'd been unstoppable ever since. Sure, there were still a few rival companies left, but their numbers were quickly diminishing. Either absorbed by fucking ShinRa, or suffering from "mysterious" setbacks so severe they were forced to declare bankruptcy. After which they were absorbed by fucking ShinRa anyway.

And of course the various governments across the Planet were powerless to stop it from happening. Pretty much every nation aside from Wutai had been controlled by private institutions long before fucking ShinRa had started its meteoric rise.

Fucking ShinRa.

She wondered why they'd been so adamant in recruiting her. Lucrecia was well aware that ever since she'd published her thesis on Chaos and Omega, she'd become one of the laughing stocks of the scientific community.

Lucrecia scoffed.

They lived in a world full of magic, a world where living beings dissolved into pure energy upon death. A world where it was possible to summon weapons of mass destruction naturally created by that same energy. Yet _she_ was the insane one for suggesting that the Lifestream had an ultimate defense mechanism. No matter how much data she had to support her theory.

Idiots.

Of course, the fact that Lucrecia publicly believed in the concept of the Lifestream and used it as a premise in her research would be enough to be branded a hack all on its own, because fucking ShinRa. Not that she was complaining about her reputation, or even that she was denying it. Lucrecia very much enjoyed being a mad scientist. She was more than just content with this life and all she'd accomplished, didn't have any true regrets aside from one. But even that one thing wasn't capable of destroying the pure giddiness and sheer satisfaction she'd experienced over the past twenty-seven years.

Because Lucrecia was studying _magic_. Even after all this time that knowledge was still thrilling, kept inspiring a sense of wonder that never truly disappeared.

However, the fact remained that she didn't have a credible reputation. So why go through all this trouble to recruit her? Especially from fucking ShinRa, the most vocal and ridiculing of all her critics.

What exactly was this project about?

The sound of a door opening made her open her eyes and turn to face the three people now entering the foyer.

Lucrecia stared.

"Doctor Crescent, marvelous to have you here, simply marvelous!" an older man with glasses and a large moustache exclaimed as he strode forward. He halted in front of her with a bright smile. Lucrecia automatically shook the hand he held out as she continued looking over his shoulder, unable to tear her gaze away.

"Professor Gast, I presume?" she heard her own voice ask.

"Indeed I am, Professor Gast Faremis at your service. Thank you so much for agreeing to join us, I'm sure your insight will contribute greatly," Professor Gast Faremis finished.

A distant part of Lucrecia realized that this was Gast _Faremis_. As in, the actual _Doctor Faremis_.

Most of her could only continue to stare.

"How could I resist working on a project I know nothing about?" Her automatic retort made Doctor Faremis chuckle.

Lucrecia still didn't look away, couldn't, had to stare.

"Ah yes, professional secrecy, the bane of all corporate research. But the funding more than makes up for it, I assure you. Have no fear, I'll give a detailed briefing as soon as the final stragglers arrive. We're still waiting on the last three researchers. Well, two, now that you are here."

Lucrecia was vaguely aware of an unintelligible sound escaping her throat as she kept staring. She absently noted Doctor Faremis grin.

"But where are my manners, allow me to introduce you. You've already met my assistant Mike Stephenson, of course. And this is Vincent Valentine, a member of ShinRa's Department of Administrative Research."

Vincent Valentine inclined his as he continued to watch her with an unreadable expression and those hauntingly familiar eyes.

"Doctor Crescent," Vincent Valentine greeted, his voice polite and utterly detached, giving no hint as to what he was feeling.

"Vincent Valentine," Lucrecia heard herself say, unable look away from him. Doctor Faremis chuckled.

"Come, we'll show you to your room," Doctor Faremis said.

Lucrecia kept her eyes fixed on Vincent Valentine as he moved forward to take hold of one of her bags, barely aware that Mike did the same and that Doctor Faremis chuckled once more. She kept staring, finding it impossible to tear her eyes away from him.

This was Vincent Valentine, future companion of Cloud Strife. Vincent Valentine, one of the heroes who would one day save the entire Planet.

Vincent Valentine. The son of the man Lucrecia had killed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Present**

Zack knocked on the door.

"Delivery!" he announced in a cheerful voice.

"Go away," Sephiroth ordered, curt and flat.

"No can do, it's a very important delivery," Zack returned. Cloud shifted uncomfortably next to him. Zack couldn't blame him, it was always odd to hear a seemingly one-sided conversation.

Sephiroth didn't answer. So Zack took hold of the handle and twisted, effortlessly breaking the lock. He opened the door.

Zack stared.

The room he was looking at was _wrecked_. Documents and files were scattered all over the place, every cabinet was bare, drawers disregarded haphazardly across the floor and the remnants of a broken chair were abandoned in a corner of the room.

In the center of the disarray stood Sephiroth. Sephiroth, who was holding documents so tightly that they should by all rights be tearing apart. Sephiroth, who was giving Zack a terrifying glare.

Sephiroth, who looked wild and frantic in a way Zack had never seen.

"Go. Away," Sephiroth actually hissed, sending a shiver of fear down Zack's spine and making Cloud flinch violently. Zack cleared his suddenly too dry throat and forced himself to grin teasingly.

"Wow, you could really use a shower. And some sleep." The shower thing was a lie of course, Sephiroth was ridiculously pretty as ever, not a single hair out of place. Yet he looked panicked. He looked lost.

Zack was so glad he'd decided to barge in. Whatever was going on with Sephiroth was clearly worse than what he'd thought.

Then Sephiroth _bared his teeth,_ and this time Zack was right there with Cloud as they both flinched violently. It was like watching Bahamut bare its teeth, instinctively terrifying to the extreme. It was also completely unexpected, because while Sephiroth was many things, aggressive had never been one of them.

What the hell was going on with him?

"Leave," Sephiroth hissed once more. Zack did his best to ignore the frenzy in his brain yelling at him to _run_ and forced himself to smile instead, even as he couldn't help but adjust his balance so he would better be able to defend himself and Cloud. Zack waved the letter through the air as he took a few steps forward. Cloud did the same after a brief hesitation.

"Seriously, you're going to want to hear this. I just had a cranky old man march up to me and tell me he had a letter meant for you. And get this, it was given to him twenty years ago!" Zack barely managed to suppress another flinch as Sephiroth's pupils narrowed to even thinner slits. He felt very much like prey at the moment. "How's that even possible, right? Come on, you can't tell me you aren't curious. Twenty years!" Zack continued, trying to keep his voice as steady as possible.

Sephiroth practically snarled, and this time Zack couldn't stop himself from taking a step backwards. But he quickly forced himself to grin once more, knowing and not caring that it looked fake. Zack also did his best to suppress the urge to listen to his brain, which was now frothing at the mouth and screaming at him to run _run_ _ **run!**_

"Twenty years," Zack repeated just to break the silence, the cold sweat on the back of his neck making him want to shiver. Cloud didn't even bother to try to act normal, he was trembling violently and gripping his rifle so hard Zack could hear the metal strain slightly.

Sephiroth took a step forward while his hand started reaching for the Masamune and Zack's grin dropped as he began reaching for the Buster Sword and his mind switched to combat–

Sephiroth halted with an expression of pure disbelief and desperate hope, openly expressive in a way Zack had never known him to be. He let go of the papers still clenched in one hand– _moved_ , so fast Zack couldn't track his passage, before Sephiroth reappeared in front of him so suddenly that Zack couldn't stop himself from taking another step back. Sephiroth snatched the envelope out of his hand, ripped it open and pulled out the letter, almost tearing it apart in his haste to unfold it.

The papers Sephiroth had let go of fluttered to the ground.

Zack watched, completely bewildered and at a loss for what to do as Sephiroth's eyes flickered over the incredibly chaotic writing Zack had briefly glimpsed. Cloud shifted next to him, nervous and afraid, but Zack couldn't worry about that, all his focus remaining on Sephiroth instead. On Sephiroth's breathing as it turned too fast and too shallow, on his heartbeat as it began racing in a way it only did in battle. On his too wide eyes, his pupils the thinnest of slits, their glow becoming brighter with every moment they scanned the letter.

Zack opened his mouth and closed it with no idea of what to say, no idea what was going on, what he should do. What he could do.

Zack felt helpless.

But Zack had sworn he'd _never_ be helpless again. So he cleared his too dry throat and tried to find his voice once more.

"Seph–"

Sephiroth whimpered, the sound so impossibly out of character that for a moment Zack could do nothing but gape in utter astonishment– the door on the opposite side of the room was smashed open and Sephiroth was gone. Zack stared some more. He blinked very slowly.

What?

Zack kept staring at the door torn clean off its hinges. As Cloud shifted his weight, Zack turned towards him with wide eyes, still stunned. Because just... what?

Zack opened and closed his mouth again, mind still blank.

Cloud gave him a deeply uncertain look, his fear giving way to rising confusion.

"...What just happened?" Cloud's question finally snapped Zack out of his stupor. He grimaced and squared his shoulders, before he looked back toward the remains of the door with narrowed eyes.

"I don't know, but I'll be damned if I don't find out. Let's go, Cloud." With that, Zack moved to the open doorway. He halted as he looked down a stone staircase that spiraled deep underground.

What was going on here?

Zack looked back towards Cloud when he didn't make a move to follow.

"Come on," he snapped impatiently while concentrating on the loud crashes he could hear coming from below, because obviously something was _very_ wrong and Zack could definitely use the backup, if only so he could send Cloud back to contact HQ after they'd gotten more information. Zack started jogging down the stairs at a pace easy enough for Cloud to keep up with if he ran, and he heard Cloud follow after another brief hesitation. The smashing sounds grew louder as they descended. Eventually, they reached the bottom and looked at what were apparently frigging catacombs.

Catacombs that smelled of overwhelming death and decay.

Seriously, what the hell was going on here?

Zack resumed his jog Cloud did his best to keep up, both of them following the sounds of breaking stone that echoed through the hallway. Zack glanced briefly towards one of the busted open chambers. He halted, causing Cloud to almost run into him.

Inside the chamber were coffins. Every one of them was smashed open.

Every one of them held a decomposing Makonoid corpse.

Panic took over, because this couldn't be happening again, because fucking Genesis was _wrong_ and this couldn't be happening again, Zack couldn't do this again, couldn't lose another friend, couldn't be forced again like he'd been forced to _kill Angeal_ –

Zack ran, leaving Cloud behind as he pushed himself to the very limit.

Not again, _never_ again, Zack wouldn't allow this to happen again!

Zack caught up with Sephiroth just as he ripped the lid off another coffin and threw the heavy stone plate against the wall hard enough to shatter it into rubble, the bricks behind it cracking and crumbling from the impact.

"Seph–" Zack's voice died out as Sephiroth violently smashed another coffin open. Zack ran forward and grasped Sephiroth's shoulder– was thrown through the air, back colliding against a wall, all the air knocked out of his lungs.

Zack slid to the floor, coughing and wincing from the pain in his chest. That felt like a cracked rib. Letting out a hissed breath, Zack got to his feet, ignored what he was now certain was a cracked rib and looked towards Sephiroth as he ripped the lid off the last coffin in the chamber. Sephiroth turned towards the entrance leading to the main tunnel–

Zack jumped forward, blocking the entrance right before Sephiroth managed to reach it. Sephiroth halted right in front of him, wild and manic and utterly terrifying.

"Move," Sephiroth hissed, but Zack refused to budge, desperate to snap Sephiroth out of this, couldn't let this happen again.

"Sephiroth, stop! Just–"

Sephiroth snarled and Zack flinched– his chest was hit by what felt like a Midgar Zolom. Zack rolled across the floor and hit another wall, the wind knocked out of him once more as Sephiroth blurred out of the chamber– Zack lunged after Sephiroth and managed to snatch a fistful of silver hair, making Sephiroth turn around and clench his fist–

Zack spun on his heel, grasping the Buster Sword and pulling it in front of him. "Seph–" The Buster Sword blocked the punch and Zack heard metal splinter as he was thrown through the air. He twisted mid-air, his feet hitting the ground just as Sephiroth entered another chamber.

Zack dropped the damaged Buster Sword –Angeal's blade was _cracked_ – and ran as he heard the coffins inside the chamber being smashed open _._ He reached the chamber just as Sephiroth left it, Sephiroth moving too fast, almost out of his range– Zack managed to snatch another fistful of silver hair.

"Sephiroth snap ou–" His back was colliding with the wall, he was _choking_ , clawing at the hand around his throat, couldn't breathe–

"Stay out of my way," Sephiroth's voice hissed and Zack's ears rang because he couldn't breathe, _couldn't breathe_ – thrown through the air, rolling across the floor, gasping, _air!_

Zack continued wheezing as he laid flat on his back. He absently registered that he'd cracked another rib.

"Zack!" Cloud's worried voice made him raise his head, dazed and disorientated and sucking in such sweet air. Cloud fell to his knees beside him and grasped him by the shoulder.

"Zack, what happened?" Cloud's question made him blink, his mind beginning to clear– he jumped up and ran, picking up the damaged Buster Sword on the way without slowing down, moving as fast as he could towards the sound of smashing stone.

Sephiroth was _breaking_ , and there was no way in hell that Zack was going to let Angeal happen again, not now, not _ever_.

Zack reached Sephiroth just as he tore out the last of a heavily reinforced metal door _with his bare hands_.

Zack halted, instinctive terror forcing him freeze, before he quickly snapped himself out of it. Then he hesitated a moment longer.

Sephiroth wasn't moving anymore.

Zack took a cautious step closer, the damaged Buster Blade held at the ready as he braced himself for another outburst. But Sephiroth didn't move, didn't even blink, just kept staring through the open doorway with too wide eyes, his breathing still too fast, his heart still beating too rapidly. Zack risked a quick glance through the opening. And stared.

A man was standing in the remains of one of the coffins. A man with wild black hair and crimson eyes, who wore a ragged red cloak and had a large gun strapped to his leg. A man who was looking at Sephiroth as though he was an impossible dream come to life, showing desperate hope and disbelief in equal measure.

"Sephiroth," the man breathed out, a denial and prayer both.

Sephiroth started trembling.

"How? How do you know who I am?" Sephiroth's voice was barely audible, yet it was deafening in the near silence that had fallen.

The man didn't seem to hear Sephiroth, just kept looking at him the way a drowning person would look at land. He couldn't seem to look away.

Sephiroth couldn't seem to look away either.

Zack had no idea what he should do right now. But he knew he couldn't risk setting Sephiroth off again, couldn't risk doing something that would lead to a situation like Angeal–

Zack decided to keep quiet and watch. For now.

Slowly, the man started moving forward, his every step wooden yet gliding at the same time. Zack absently took note of the complete lack of sound the man made. He also suddenly realized that the very soft, very slow rhythm he was hearing, was actually the man's heartbeat. Zack held out an arm to stop Cloud from coming closer as he finally caught up with them, breathing heavily and holding his rifle at the ready, aimed towards the man. He didn't make a move to fire though, because Cloud wasn't one of those idiots who shot first and asked questions later, thank Odin.

No one spoke.

Finally, the man halted in front of Sephiroth, and the near silence became so loud Zack couldn't help but tense up further. The man lifted a gloved hand and hesitantly reached up as though to touch Sephiroth's face. He halted just before he did, and that disbelieving hope grew even stronger. He looked as though Sephiroth would shatter into a thousand pieces if he touched him. And Sephiroth...

Sephiroth kept trembling, kept looking at the man as though he held the answer to every question he'd ever had.

As though he would shatter if the man touched him.

When the man finally spoke, his voice was soft, raw. Broken.

"You look so much like your mother."

* * *

**Past**

Lucrecia entered her room and closed the door behind her. She walked towards her bed. Sat down on it. Picked up a pillow. Firmly pushed her face into it.

She screamed.

Fucking, fucking ShinRa!

The _JENOVA Project_ , she was supposed to work on the fucking _JENOVA Project!_

Lucrecia screamed louder or maybe she was laughing, crying, who the fuck cared!

The fucking _JENOVA Project!_

She didn't– couldn't– the fucking _JENOVA Project!_

Lucrecia lifted her head and gasped for air, buried her face into the pillow again and she screamed.

Fuck ShinRa, fuck Jenova and _fuck whatever higher power had decided to reincarnate her into the fucking Final Fantasy VII world!_

Lucrecia didn't know how long she kept screaming, didn't care either because the fucking _JENOVA Project!_

Finally her voice died down, and Lucrecia lifted her head from the pillow as she sucked rapid breaths, tears still running down her cheeks as trembles racked her body. She looked at the window, and for one utterly insane moment, Lucrecia actually considered jumping out of it and running like hell. It didn't matter that she was on the second floor.

It was because she was on the second floor.

Lucrecia shuddered and ran towards the bathroom, slammed the door behind her, ripped off the scarf holding her hair in place, tore off her clothes and jumped into the shower. She frantically opened the tab and set the temperature as high as possible. Lucrecia winced as frigid water hit her skin, but she didn't move, kept standing there, still unable to think because the fucking _JENOVA Project!_

As the water became warmer, Lucrecia closed her eyes and hugged herself, digging her nails into her arms almost to the point of bleeding. The water turned burning. Lucrecia shivered.

The fucking _JENOVA Project_.

She blindly reached forward with one hand and lowered the temperature as the water became too scalding, dialing it back down to burning sensation instead. Lucrecia planted both hands on the tiles in front of her, never opening her eyes as she let her head hang down.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

And again.

And again.

Now just _keep doing that_.

Slowly, Lucrecia felt her frantic thoughts begin to calm down and her tension loosen, the hot water habitually helping her relax. It was nothing compared to the hot springs back home, but the wet heat across her skin and the heavy steam filling her lungs was enough for her to center herself, at least a little.

Lucrecia opened her eyes and blankly stared at the tiles in front of her. She grimaced, closed her eyes and tilted her head up towards the falling water as she pushed her hair back with both hands.

The fucking JENOVA Project. She was supposed to work on the fucking _JENOVA Project._

Lucrecia let out a hissed breath as she forced herself to work this through rationally.

She was supposed to work on the JENOVA Project. The project that would one day lead to the creation of Sephiroth. The man who would one day try to destroy the entire Planet.

The man who'd almost succeed.

Lucrecia cursed her memory in the most vicious way possible because _she didn't remember enough about what would happen_. She knew that the JENOVA Project would somehow lead to Sephiroth's creation, but she didn't know how it would happen, couldn't recall more than a vague outline of the game's plot. She remembered that Sephiroth would try to destroy the Planet through Jenova and by summoning a meteor. She knew that Cloud Strife and his companions would eventually stop him, and that Aerith would die in the process.

Lucrecia knew countless people would die when Midgar was destroyed.

But aside from that, she remembered practically nothing of importance. Which was completely normal of course, chronologically speaking, it had been over forty years since she'd played the game, and she'd finished the third disc no more than once. Not to mention that while she'd been vaguely aware there were other games set in the world of Final Fantasy VII, she'd never played anything besides the original. In her first life, she hadn't given the game any real thought since she'd been a young teen, and after she'd been reborn...

Lucrecia had been six years old before she'd figured out where she was. Which made her sound like an idiot, except it wasn't as though people automatically assumed, after realizing they'd even been reincarnated in the first place, that hey, maybe this new world was a world she already knew from a damn videogame!

It was only after an enlightening history lesson involving the Wutai Empire and their Summons that Lucrecia had finally realized where she was. With that, she'd done her best to recall everything she could about the game, no matter how insignificant. She'd even written it down in English, an unknown language here. Yet after that...

The problem was that her basic knowledge was pretty much useless. Lucrecia had no idea at what point in time she was relative to the events of the game. Hell, up until she was thirteen, fucking ShinRa had been nothing but a weapons manufacturing company. And while Lucrecia had realized she was beginning to near the start of the plot after she'd learned that Grimoire was Vincent Valentine's father, that knowledge didn't actually help her narrow down the time left. Lucrecia remembered that Vincent Valentine had spent years, maybe even decades, sleeping in those cataco–

Oh Gaia. Vincent Valentine, a completely normal human being, would be turned into a _shapeshifter_ , Grimoire's son would– she'd known he would, had always known but now she'd seen him– what would _happen_ to him, how could he become– could he sleep–

Sleep in the catacombs _underneath this mansion_ –

Lucrecia grit her teeth as she pushed her returning hysteria away and forced her mind back on what was immediately important instead. She could panic about Vincent Valentine later.

The revelation of Vincent Valentine's existence hadn't changed the fact that Lucrecia still didn't know where she was relative to the game's starting point. By which she meant the Nibelheim Incident. The fucking JENOVA Project didn't change that either, she had no idea when that had even taken place. Yet if she had to take a guess, which she now _really_ needed to do, Lucrecia would estimate...

Honestly, her most conservative guess was that she was a decade before the Nibelheim Incident at the very least. Not just because Vincent Valentine had somehow slept in those catacombs for years at a time, but because Midgar wasn't finished yet. Construction on the plates had started a little over a year ago, but it would take another two years at least before the biggest metropolis ever built became operational. Lucrecia remembered that when the game began, Midgar had been the center of the Planet for quite some time, so that meant it had to have been operational for a decade at minimum.

There was also the fact that fucking ShinRa wasn't making super soldiers yet, and the ability to create them wasn't something that could happen without extensive research on Jenova itself, nor without human experimentation. In all honesty, a decade was an extremely conservative estimate. Most likely it would be somewhere between twenty and thirty years instead. Maybe even longer. Because right now, there was no Midgar, no SOLDIERS and, most importantly of all, there was no Sephiroth.

She was supposed to work on the project that would bring him into existence.

Lucrecia let out a broken laugh. The worst part was that she should've guessed, if not from being assigned to _Nibelheim_ of all places, then most certainly by meeting Vincent Valentine in person.

But seeing Vincent Valentine, seeing those eyes...

Lucrecia had been too caught up in her past mistakes to think things through like a sensible human being. So when Doctor Faremis had finally explained why they were all here, she'd been completely blindsided by the bombshell that was the fucking JENOVA Project.

She'd sat through the entire briefing first in a stunned stupor, then with rapidly rising horror. She'd barely been able to hold it together for as long as she had, had grasped the first excuse she could think of to leave. The excuse being that she'd been overwhelmed by nausea after Doctor Faremis had unveiled the _unbelievably_ grotesque sight of Jenova itself. It hadn't even been a lie, because looking at Jenova meant looking at an absolute travesty of everything humanoids and their organs stood for.

Lucrecia hadn't been the only one who'd needed to leave the room after being overcome by nausea, but unlike the others, she couldn't return. She couldn't deal with the atmosphere of overwhelming excitement, the giddy joy from scientists geeking out about the chance to study the impossibly complete remains of a crystallized Cetra.

Except it wasn't a Cetra. It was Jenova. The unholy abomination from outer space.

Gaia, what was she supposed to do?

She couldn't leave. After signing that damn contract and learning what this project was about, she literally couldn't leave. Fucking ShinRa wouldn't let her.

Fucking ShinRa.

So what was she supposed to do about this?

Lucrecia couldn't... she couldn't be a part of this, _couldn't_. She couldn't carry the responsibility of creating Sephiroth.

But if she ran away, just left and never looked back... Even if she somehow managed to get away, even if she managed to hide from fucking ShinRa, even if she was willing to give up her entire life... wouldn't she be just as guilty as if she'd stayed? Unlike every other person here, Lucrecia knew what this project would lead to. She knew it would be the cause of so much death and destruction she couldn't truly wrap her mind around it. If she just ran away, if she didn't even try to stop what she _knew_ would happen...

Lucrecia let out a hissed breath.

She couldn't leave.

Lucrecia let out an exhausted sigh as a weight dropped down her shoulders, before she blindly turned off the shower..

She would stay. She would do her best to stop Sephiroth's creation from ever happening. She had no idea how, but she knew that she had to try. If she didn't, the blood of all those that would die would be on her hands as surely as it would be on Sephiroth's.

Lucrecia knew she wouldn't be able to live with that.

She kept standing in the same position a moment longer, before she let out another deep sigh and forced herself to move. She brought her hands up to gently wring the worst of the water out of her hair as she opened her eyes and looked around for some towels. Spotting a few hanging nearby, she gave her hair another gentle twist, piled it all on top of her head and leaned forward to grasp the biggest towel she could see. She wrapped it firmly around her hair. Lucrecia took another moment to close her eyes.

She could do this. She could stop what she knew was coming.

She had to.

Lucrecia opened her eyes, grabbed another towel and quickly dried off while making sure the towel holding her hair in place didn't come loose. She looked at her clothes laying abandoned on the floor and decided she didn't feel like squeezing back into underwear that had been dampened by the steam still hanging in the air. No, Lucrecia felt like digging into her closet and pulling out the sexiest lingerie she'd brought along. She'd put on her favorite dress, the one that made her legs look endless, before she'd treat her hair with product and brush it all until it was a smooth curtain once more.

Tomorrow she'd go through all the information Doctor Faremis had now made available and start looking for ways to sabotage this entire thing. But not tonight. Tonight, she would pretty herself up even more than her amazing genes always did, put one the one pair of heels she'd brought along, the cute cherry red one, and take one of her trashy romance novels with her downstairs. She'd ask Sharlee for a fancy dinner, because the cook was a treasure who was always willing to indulge, and read while waiting for her to make it. After that, she'd retire to her room with a glass, or hell, a bottle of red wine and continue reading her mindless drivel before going to bed.

If anyone downstairs had a problem with that, they could go screw themselves. Lucrecia didn't give one flying fuck if she seemed like a moody loner or a stuck up bitch, she was going to pamper herself for as long as she damn well felt like. Everything else could wait until tomorrow, because if the crushing weight of deciding to mess around with the future wasn't reason enough to take a night off, Lucrecia didn't know what was.

She wrapped the towel around her body and left the bathroom– she screamed, her hands coming up to clutch as her towel as her every thought was thrown into turmoil once more.

Vincent Valentine's haunting eyes widened slightly, the only sign of his surprise as he looked at her with an otherwise perfectly composed expression from where he was standing in the middle of _her_ room.

"What the– What are you doing here?" Lucrecia yelled.

"My apologies, I didn't realize you were taking a shower," Vincent Valentine answered in that polite and detached voice that gave no hint as to what he was feeling, while those haunting eyes became just as inscrutable as the rest of him, the only sign of his surprise gone as quickly as it had appeared.

"You didn't– why the fuck are you here?" Lucrecia exclaimed, because what the fuck was Vincent Valentine doing in her room?!

"You left the celebrations quite suddenly, I came to see if you were alright," Vincent Valentine returned, still perfectly composed and utterly unreadable.

"And you couldn't knock?!" Lucrecia shot back in a shrill voice, the only thing she could think of to say. Her mind was just utterly incapable of processing this situation.

Because _Vincent Valentine_ was in _her_ room!

"I did. When I didn't get an answer, I decided to enter to see if you were out or if you simply hadn't heard me. When I heard sounds from the bathroom, I decided to wait until you came out to ensure you were alright. I didn't realize you were taking a shower," Vincent Valentine repeated in that polite and detached voice.

Lucrecia gaped. That was just...

"Get out," she ordered with a fierce glare as her bewilderment faded and her temper flared up.

"I–"

"Get the fuck out!" Lucrecia yelled as she pointed at the door with one hand, the other still clutching her towel to ensure it wouldn't fall off.

Vincent Valentine kept looking at her with those haunting eyes a moment longer, remaining utterly inscrutable. He inclined his head, left her room and closed the door behind him. Lucrecia stared at the now closed door a moment longer.

She burst into hysterical giggles and leaned against the wall for support as she closed her eyes.

Gaia, had that really just happened?

Lucrecia's giggles turned to cackling.

Yes. Yes it had.

Vincent Valentine had just caught her wearing nothing but a _towel_.

Lucrecia desperately gasped for breath, tears clinging to her lashes as she burst into hysterical laughter once more, overwhelmed by a chaotic mess of emotions.

She was going to work on the fucking JENOVA Project. She was going to try to sabotage it, try to change the future she knew would happen if she didn't.

And _Grimoire's son_ had caught her wearing nothing but a _towel_.

The higher power obviously messing with Lucrecia's life was a twisted being indeed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Present**

"Who is my mother?" Sephiroth demanded, looking like he needed the answer more than he needed to breathe.

Zack was completely lost. With every exchange he understood less of what was going on, and that was saying something.

The mysterious man didn't seem to hear Sephiroth. He simply stood there, frozen in place, one gloved hand still lifted as though to cup Sephiroth's cheek.

Zack snapped out of his confusion as Sephiroth snarled and yanked the man closer by his ragged cloak. The man's arm dropped listlessly to his side.

"Who is my mother!" Sephiroth actually screamed, and Zack was about to leap forward to separate the two–

"Lucrecia." The man's whisper instantly made Sephiroth release his grip, shaking his head in denial as he took a step backwards. Zack hesitated.

"No, she... Hojo–" Sephiroth fell silent while Zack's gaze snapped towards the man, whose red eyes flashed gold and whose ragged cloak began stirring around his feet in an oddly disturbing way. The cloak's movements were also completely silent. Which was was weird, but Zack had seen a lot weirder.

Yet for some reason, the sight made every hair on the back of his neck stand up. He wasn't the only one who felt dread, Cloud sucked in a sharp breath and a violent shiver ran through him.

"H̨ơ҉jo̧," the now gold-eyed man breathed out, his voice indescribably off. The man closed golden eyes, and the heaviness in the air disappeared as his cloak ceased its creepy movements. He took a single audible breath. The sound made Zack realize it was the first time he'd heard the man do so. Even though his chest had been moving rhythmically before this as well, Zack wasn't able to hear him breathing.

Yeah, that wasn't creepy at all.

When the man opened his eyes, they were crimson once more and gazing unwaveringly at Sephiroth.

"Hojo lies," the man declared, a pure statement of fact.

Zack had a very bad feeling about this. Aside from the situation in general, he meant.

When a man with mysterious powers found in the underground catacombs of an abandoned ShinRa mansion knew the head of the Science Department by name, things could never be good.

Sephiroth shook his head in denial, looking so oddly young that for the first time it really hit Zack that Sephiroth was only four years older than himself.

"I... the papers, documents, files, they all... _everything_ says that my mother is Jenova–"

" _ **J̀́͝e̸҉n̵͜ò͜v̢͢a̸͢͡ ̨͜͠i̛s̸̢̀ n҉ờ̕t͏ ͝yo̷u͝r҉ m҉͘ot̶h͜҉̧e̸̶r̴̸͘!̴**_ "

Zack was barely aware of himself scrambling backwards, of Sephiroth grasping the Masamune before he stilled in the most dangerous way possible, of smashing into Cloud at full speed and making him crash to the ground, all of it was utterly inconsequential next to that _thing_ holy shit!

A very small part of Zack said that he was overreacting, told him that he'd seen far scarier things than this. Like a Midgar Zolom. Or a Summon. Or Sephiroth completely losing it.

That part of him could go jump off a cliff. Zack had _never_ known as he did right now that what he was looking at not only could, but would squash him like a bug.

What he was looking at would kill every living thing on the Planet.

The thing bent forward and closed glowing orbs as talons clutched at a head crowned by horns, hellish wings spread high while the very air around it was torn apart.

Zack kept absolutely still, knowing with complete certainty that if he made a single move, he would die.

A moment passed that seemed to last an eternity.

The air around the thing calmed down. Wings turned back into a ragged cloak and horns unraveled into black hair, grey skin returning to a human texture and color as that too soft and too slow heartbeat started up again, the thing becoming a man once more.

A man who let out a harsh breath. Red eyes opened as the man lowered his hands, his expression smoothing out in an impressive illusion of calm as he straightened.

"Jenova is _not_ your mother," the man repeated in a human voice that was almost steady.

Sephiroth let out a bark of hysterical laughter, and it was honestly one of the most unnerving sounds Zack had ever heard. Not as disturbing as the thing's voice though, not by a long shot.

"And I'm just supposed to believe you? All because of a letter that said– Who _are_ you?" Zack got the impression that Sephiroth had tried to go for mocking, but he only managed to sound desperate instead.

Before the man could answer, a loud groan echoed through the hallway and both Zack and Sephiroth snapped their gazes towards Cloud as he heaved himself. Damnit. Zack had honestly forgotten all about him.

Nice going, Fair.

"You alright, Cloud?" he asked as he looked the dazed soldier over. Zack didn't see or smell any blood at least. Though the pervading stench of rotting corpses was seriously interfering with his sense of smell.

After his quick inspection, Zack returned his attention to the man and Sephiroth. The man was still looking at Sephiroth in a carefully composed way that made faint bells ring at the back of Zack's mind. There was something about that expression...

But that wasn't important right now, Zack was far more concerned with the way Sephiroth was blinking almost owlishly at Cloud. As though he hadn't even realized Cloud was here.

Sephiroth. Not realizing someone was near him. Zack hadn't even known it was physically possible for that to happen.

"I'm fine. I think," Cloud said as he got back on his feet. His movements were a little too unsteady for Zack's comfort, but then, Cloud wasn't a SOLDIER.

"You sure?" Zack asked, needing to hear another reassurance. This entire situation was throwing him completely off balance, reminding him too much of when Angeal–

"Yeah, I'm fine," Cloud repeated softly, still confused and incredibly frightened as he bent down to pick up the rifle he'd dropped. Like Zack himself still was.

Meanwhile, Sephiroth was still staring at Cloud owlishly. He looked calmer than Zack had seen since this entire ordeal had begun.

In a brilliant stroke of inspiration, Zack knew what he had to do next. He forced himself to smile cheerfully and swung the damaged Buster Sword –Angeal's sword was _cracked_ – onto his back, the magnetic lock snapping it into place, before he slung his arm around Cloud and pulled him close, though he made sure it didn't interfere with Cloud's ability to shoot if necessary.

"Great! So, we haven't been introduced yet. I'm Zack Fair, and this here is Cloud Strife. We're friends of Sephiroth," Zack ignored Cloud almost choking on his own spit. "who I'm guessing you already know. And you are?"

The question made Sephiroth snap his gaze back towards the man, his bewilderment replaced by manic focus once more, his eyes brightening far too much and his pupils narrowing to the thinnest of slits. Not exactly the response Zack had been going for, but at least Sephiroth seemed content to wait for the man to answer.

Like a Midgar Zolom content to wait in a swamp until its prey was within range.

The man simply kept looking at Sephiroth in silence, red eyes bright with a chaotic mix of emotions even as the man's expression remained so carefully composed. It was nerve wracking, it really was.

"...Vincent Valentine," the man finally answered just as Zack was about to repeat himself.

"Nice to meet you," Zack immediately replied. Right now, the best course of action was to be distracting, to force Sephiroth to keep part of his attention on Zack. To keep Sephiroth aware of his surroundings. That was something Zack honestly hadn't expected he'd ever need to do, but he knew how to to it. He had to keep talking.

Zack was good at talking.

"So how do you know Sephiroth?" Zack asked in a totally normal, nothing-wrong-here voice. "Because, and please don't take this wrong way, I've never heard of you before."

Vincent kept silent for several long moments, because clearly this was the kind of situation where silence was a good thing. As evidenced by a twitch of Sephiroth's hand that reminded Zack more of a dragon flicking its tail in impatience than anything else.

He was just about to repeat the question when Vincent, who still hadn't stopped staring unwaveringly at Sephiroth, spoke.

"...No. I don't suppose you would have." The words were softly spoken, and a flash of pain broke through Vincent's illusion of calm so fast that Zack almost didn't catch it. He would've linked the sight to a kicked puppy if the image of that thing wasn't still burned into his brain. It clashed a little. It clashed a lot.

Zack quickly started talking again as he saw Sephiroth grit his teeth and shift his balance in a way Zack did not like _at all._

"Yeah, so what's your deal with Sephiroth? Also, how did you end up here? I mean, catacombs full of rotting corpses aren't the kind of place you'd expect to find a homeless guy. Not that I think you're homeless! It's just, you have this whole living-on-the-streets vibe going on, and–"

"Zack, shut up," Sephiroth ordered with a harsh glare, and it was the one of the most wonderful sights Zack had ever seen. He knew that glare. It was the one that meant _Zack, I am genuinely pissed off at you, and in our next spar I will kick your ass three ways to Wutai and back_.

Zack felt almost faint with relief. Finally Sephiroth seemed to be regaining his senses. And yeah, it was obvious his friend was still more than just on edge, but at least Zack now felt some tentative hope that Sephiroth wouldn't go on a rampage again.

So he smiled and mimed zipping his lips. Not that he would keep quiet, the moment it looked like Sephiroth would start slipping again, Zack would blabber enough to get his ass kicked ten times across the Planet.

Sephiroth returned to watching Vincent like he was nothing but prey, but at least his eyes were a little clearer than before.

"How do you know who I am? How do you know who my mother is?" Sephiroth demanded in a voice possessing a fraction of his usual calm.

Vincent kept silent, his eyes flashing with too many things to name. In return, Sephiroth snarled. It almost made Zack flinch, and Cloud didn't manage to suppress his own. Given how near Cloud was, Zack was capable of smelling his sharp spike in terror as well, no matter the pervasive stench of death and decay.

"How?" Sephiroth repeated, his illusion of control continuing to crumble and the previous manic desperation starting to return. Fortunately, Vincent decided to speak before Zack had to interfere again.

"I knew your mother," Vincent said in a carefully controlled voice, even as another brief flash of pain broke through his composure. "And you look so much like her."

Zack might not be the smartest guy around, but even he could see that Sephiroth needed more than that. Wow, he needed so much more than that, because Sephiroth was beginning to radiate pure _rage_.

Sephiroth when angry was terrifying enough, but a Sephiroth who was furious? That was the stuff nightmares had nightmares about.

"But _how_ do you know her?" Zack quickly interjected. "Because what you just said isn't nearly detailed enough, no offense. Maybe elaborate a little? Like, what was your relationship to her? When did you meet her?" Zack blinked, his own question making him realize something important. "Yeah, when is a good place to start. I mean you're what, the same age as Sephiroth? A little older?"

His own words also made Zack become more consciously aware of the fact that even with all the grime and dirt on him, Vincent was... yeah, Vincent was just as ridiculously attractive as Sephiroth himself. In a very different way, true, but it was no less ridiculous.

It made it hard to tell how old Vincent was.

A squirm beneath his grasp reminded him of Cloud, still locked under his arm. Poor Cloud, this so wasn't what he'd signed up for. Not that Zack had either, but it wasn't like he'd just abandon his other friend because of a of a little freak out. Or a big one.

Zack let go of Cloud as Vincent kept silent. Which really was an amazing accomplishment on Vincent's part, because Sephiroth looked like he was one moment away from drawing the Masamune and getting his answers by force. Zack opened his mouth to save the day once more, but that was when Vincent decided to speak again.

Seriously, he had to be doing that on purpose.

"I'm... older than I look," Vincent began, his expression far too blank to be natural. "I met Lucrecia when she was assigned to the Jenova project. During that time we became... close. I remember–" Vincent's mask of composure shattered completely, revealing a heartbreak so deep that Zack couldn't help the brief, completely irrational urge to hug all that sorrow away. Vincent didn't say anything else.

Zack was now certain that this Vincent guy had been in love with Sephiroth's mom, but that was literally the only thing Vincent had revealed with his "explanation".

Sephiroth seemed to think the same, given that his expression twisted into a furious snarl and his hand grasped the Masamune. Zack shifted his own balance as he laid on hand on the handle of the Buster Sword. But he didn't draw it, not yet. Not when he was so afraid that any aggressive move on his part could push Sephiroth into another rampage. Instead, he opened his mouth to start talking, but Sephiroth beat him to it.

"And I'm just supposed to take your word for it? What proof do you even have that this Lucrecia was my mother?" Sephiroth demanded, apparently wanting the answer enough to not draw the Masamune. Yet.

It really was becoming easier to ignore how a huge part of Zack's brain kept gibbering with terror. This entire situation was similar to being in the middle of combat, the fear was consistent enough for Zack to start getting used to it.

Vincent, after once more doing nothing for far too long, slipped a gloved hand beneath his ragged cloak. This time Zack did draw the damaged Buster Sword, wary of what Vincent was planning to do.

Sephiroth didn't move, but his absolute stillness was more threatening than any other action he could take.

It meant that if he did strike, it would be too fast for Zack to catch it.

Vincent pulled out a worn piece of paper. A photograph, creased and faded with age. Zack was able to make out a brief glimpse of the image of a woman hugging a man, before Vincent held it out towards Sephiroth. He made no other movements. Probably for the best, given Sephiroth's state of mind.

Sephiroth never looked away from Vincent as he let go of the Masamume, thank Odin. He took hold of the photograph and glanced down towards the picture, before his eyes widened–

Sephiroth broke, his breathing becoming too fast, a thunderous heartbeat starting to race once more as he stared at the picture as though it was the only thing that existed.

Zack returned the damaged Buster Sword to its holster and took a few cautious steps forward. Both Sephiroth and Vincent ignored his approach.

"...Sephiroth?" Zack's asked softly, not really sure what he was asking for.

Sephiroth continued to ignore him and kept staring at the photograph in desperation. So Zack leaned over to look at the picture. He stared.

Well. That really did erase any doubt about who his friend's mom was.

The woman in the picture was the spitting image of Sephiroth. A female version of course, with brown hair and normal hazel eyes. She also wasn't as ridiculously pretty as Sephiroth, though she was still very beautiful. But the shape of her face, nose, cheekbones, chin, even the way she was smiling, one corner of her lips just a touch higher than the other. It was all pure Sephiroth.

In fact, Zack was so distracted by the resemblance that it took him a moment to recognize the suit worn by the man Sephiroth's mom was embracing. It took him another moment to recognize the warm red eyes looking down at her from an otherwise perfectly composed expression, but when he did...

"You're a Turk?" Zack blurted as he lifted his gaze towards Vincent. Wow, he had not seen that one coming. Though maybe he should have, Turks showed up everywhere after all.

"I was," Vincent answered, still gazing unwaveringly at Sephiroth. As he had the entire time. It was incredibly unnerving, really.

Sephiroth released a harsh breath as he lifted his eyes back to Vincent. He looked completely lost.

"What happened to her? Why did she leave me–"

"She didn't leave you," Vincent interrupted, his composure shattering in an instant. "She _never_ would've– she loved you so much and we tried but H̷͘͜o͟j̸o–" Vincent cut himself off and closed golden eyes. He let out an audible exhale.

Vincent's cloak halted its disturbing movements.

"I don't know what happened to her. I thought... I don't know." Vincent's voice was back to normal and even softer than before. He opened red eyes, barely managing to keep up his mask of composure.

Zack took an instinctive step back as Sephiroth snarled with pure rage and his hands curled into actual claws, his eyes so bright their glow illuminated everything in front of him. It was the second most terrifying thing Zack had ever seen.

If it hadn't been for that thing from before, this definitely would've counted as the most terrifying thing by far.

Zack was vaguely aware of Cloud trembling violently where he stood, registered that he was now aiming his rifle towards Sephiroth, though thankfully he made no move to fire.

"You abandoned her?" Sephiroth hissed.

Zack had no idea how Sephiroth had come to that conclusion, he really didn't. But it seemed to hit Vincent like a physical blow, the illusion of calm vanishing into thin air, only anguish remaining in its place.

"I thought she died, that you both– If I'd known you were alive I would've never stopped searching," Vincent forced out in a choked voice, looking completely broken.

That sounded suspiciously like... no, Zack was being ridiculous. It was impossible. Vincent, even if he'd possessed much shorter hair and hadn't been as ridiculously attractive in the photograph, looked roughly the same age as then, so it couldn't have been taken _that_ long ago. Which meant Zack's suspicion was impossible.

Except now that Zack was looking at Vincent and Sephiroth side by side...

Zack stared.

Sephiroth was the spitting image of his mom. Except for his eyes.

His eyes were the _exact_ same shape as Vincent's.

No friggin way.

"You're Sephiroth's dad?" Zack blurted, pure shock destroying the very small filter he usually had. It made both Sephiroth and Sephiroth's dad immediately snap their heads towards him. Zack was absently aware of Cloud choking behind him.

Now that he'd said it out loud, it was as though Zack could see clearly for the first time. Suddenly it was so obvious. It wasn't just the eyes, it was how Sephiroth's dad stood, the way he held his balance, how he composed his expression. Just like Sephiroth did.

Holy shit.

Zack could only gape as he kept staring at Sephiroth's dad.

Sephiroth's dad, who looked a few years older than his son. Sephiroth's dad, who could turn into a thing.

Sephiroth's dad. Who was a Turk.

This explained so much.

Sephiroth looked completely off balance, his previous manic rage replace by incredulous disbelief as he stared at Zack. He looked back toward his dad, causing his dad to immediately return his own gaze towards his son.

Zack could only watch, still stunned as Sephiroth's gaze flickered over every inch of his dad. Zack saw the exact moment his friend noted the same things he had.

Sephiroth looked like the world had fallen out from under his feet.

"You? You– _Where were you?!_ If you– why did you leave her?! Why did you leave _me?_ " Sephiroth's voice broke, leaving him manic and betrayed and _furious_. Zack drew the damaged Buster Sword, the sudden surge in his fear obliterating his shock, making his mind start up again.

Zack realized Sephiroth was closer to tears than he'd ever seen.

"I thought you were _dead_ ," his dad returned in another choked up voice, "thought you both were... had I known..." Sephiroth's dad fell silent, looking just as lost as Sephiroth himself. It made the resemblance even more obvious.

Sephiroth was overtaken with nothing but white hot _rage_ , and he actually screamed as he seemingly materialized right in front of his dad. Both hands grasped his dad around the throat.

His dad didn't make any move defend himself.

Sephiroth squeezed.

Zack had already let go of the damaged Buster Sword and was lunging forward, wrapping his hands around Sephiroth's wrists, digging his fingers into the pressure points as hard as he could and _yanking_ , using every ounce of strength he had. Sephiroth released his grip on his dad's throat, too brilliant eyes meeting Zack's own as he forced himself between the two, feet braced, every muscle locked into place as he tried to keep Sephiroth's hands pushed down. It felt as though he was trying to hold back a mountain.

The damaged Buster Sword hit the ground.

"Move," Sephiroth hissed.

"Sephiroth, calm down–" Zack tried, desperate and terrified and not letting this happen again!

"He left her, left me, I was alone, I always believed– _he left me alone!_ " his friend screamed, completely lost, betrayed, crazed and _furious_.

Zack knew he wouldn't be able to stop Sephiroth if he went on another rampage. He wasn't strong enough.

That didn't mean he wouldn't try.

"I'm sorry." The hoarse whisper made Sephiroth snap his eyes over Zack's shoulder towards his dad, but Zack didn't dare to move in the slightest, kept pushing down on Sephiroth's wrists with all his might.

Sephiroth's inattention was the only reason Zack could keep his hands down.

"Sephiroth, I'm so sorry." His dad's whisper was thunderous in the near silence that had fallen.

Part of Zack registered the anguish and guilt in those words. The rest kept watching Sephiroth, whose eyes started glowing even brighter. A violent shudder ran through him and he was teetering on the very edge just like Angeal–

"You're _not_ alone," Zack snapped as he dug his nails into Sephiroth's wrists, forcing his friend's attention back on himself. Zack tightened his grip, willing his friend to believe this, _needing_ –Angeal– him to believe it. "Sephiroth, you're not alone," he repeated, knowing he sounded desperate and not caring.

Because this was Sephiroth, the badass General who freely gave pointers whenever they sparred. The solemn and serious man with a hidden sense of wicked humor. The pillar of silent strength and comfort and _kindness_ after Angeal–

This was his friend.

Zack didn't abandon his friends. He would do whatever needed to make sure Sephiroth knew that too.

Sephiroth's expression turned to that of a lost child, uncertain of everything. He closed his eyes and hung his head, silver hair obscuring his features as faint tremors ran through his body.

Zack carefully let go of Sephiroth's wrists as he stopped pushing back against his hold. He hesitated briefly. Zack knew that Sephiroth didn't like it when people touched him without an invitation. Even with permission, he only tolerated a shoulder pat at most.

But Zack didn't just want to give Sephiroth a hug, he felt like his friend really needed one too. So Zack took a small step forward and threw his arms around him.

His friend shivered brutally, before his hands shot up to clutch at Zack's back, causing him to wince from the force as his cracked ribs protested harshly. Part of Zack was also a little worried that Sephiroth was about to break skin with how hard he was digging his fingers into his back.

All of that was utterly unimportant. Zack tightened his own grip around Sephiroth, for once not wanting to say anything. From the way his friend kept hugging him too tightly, he figured he didn't need to.

Zack hoped this would be enough.

It needed to be enough.

* * *

**Past**

Lucrecia's scowl deepened and her temper flared even higher as this ridiculous argument kept dragging on.

"The oscillation is clearly fluctuating according to mernis patterns," she bit out. Was Rani blind or something?

"Mernis patterns only occur when the resonance exceeds the virr limit," Rani immediately shot back, his eyes flashing with fire. Maybe that was what prevented him from seeing the obvious.

"Exactly! Look at the readouts–"

"I am!"

"Then why in Gaia's name are you still arguing about this? It says eighty-nine hits per second, you blind moron!"

"Except this isn't a human, this is a _Cetra_ , you crazy bitc–"

"Doctor Castilian!" The sharp voice startled Lucrecia, causing her to snap her head towards the source in time with Rani.

Doctor Faremis stood in the open doorway and was aiming a disapproving look at Rani, his green eyes hard behind his glasses. Next to him stood Vincent Valentine, as perfectly inscrutable as always.

"Language like that is unacceptable and you will refrain from using it," Doctor Faremis continued in an unyielding voice.

"Professor Gast, Lu– Doctor Crescent is _wrong_ , and she called me a moron!" Rani actually tried to defend himself, the ass. She'd only been telling him the truth, he was a moron. That was no reason for him to call her crazy.

Fortunately, Doctor Faremis wasn't having any of it.

"While I understand professional differences in opinions may occur–"

"Professional differences–" Rani interjected incredulously.

"Do _not_ interrupt me," Doctor Faremis ordered, immediately making Rani fall silent. Go, Doctor Faremis.

"As I said, regardless of differences in opinion, you will treat your colleagues with respect. Do I make myself clear, Doctor Castilian?" he demanded sharply. Rani gave him a look of defiance, before he scowled and turned his head to the side as he crossed his arms mulishly.

"...Yes, Professor Gast. It won't happen again," he answered sullenly. Lucrecia gave him a satisfied look. Victory was sweet.

"Doctor Crescent." Doctor Faremis' hard voice made that satisfaction come crashing down, and Lucrecia winced as she turned hesitant eyes towards him.

"Yes, Doctor Faremis?" she asked in a far too awkward voice, making her grimace briefly at herself.

Doctor Faremis gave her a stern look, making her feel like an immature child. So she crossed her arms in annoyance. Not shame. Because Lucrecia was an adult woman and hadn't been a child for a very long time.

Yet when looking at a disapproving Doctor Faremis, Lucrecia was unnervingly reminded of her father. Both of them, in fact.

"The same goes for you as well, you will treat your colleagues with the courtesy they deserve. Is that understood?"

Lucrecia mentally cursed herself as she felt her cheeks start to burn with shame.

"Yes, Doctor Faremis," she answered as she tried to will the heat in her face to go away. She also ignored Rani's satisfied smile.

Doctor Faremis gave both Lucrecia and Rani an honest to Gaia _disappointed_ look. Lucrecia felt the flush on her cheeks grow worse and she resisted the urge to squirm in her seat. Judging from how uncomfortable Rani all of a sudden appeared, his smug smile completely gone, she wasn't alone in feeling like that.

Doctor Faremis passed stern eyes over the two others present in the lab, who'd fallen silent as her argument with Rani had escalated. Elizabeth and Orin straightened under his gaze.

"This applies to everyone. Is that understood?" Doctor Faremis demanded.

"Yes, Professor Gast," they all chorused near simultaneous. Doctor Faremis gave everyone a final warning look. He nodded curtly.

"Continue your work." With that, he turned around and left the lab. Vincent Valentine trailed behind him like a silent shadow. Lucrecia hesitated for a few moments, before she got up and followed after them.

"Doctor Faremis!" she called, the hallway rendering her voice unnaturally loud. Doctor Faremis paused and turned around with a weary expression. Even his moustache seemed to droop.

Lucrecia ignored Vincent Valentine's haunting eyes as he turned around to watch he as well. She also ignored how his expression was serenely inscrutable. As always.

"Lucrecia. I've told you to call me Professor Gast," Doctor Faremis said in a tired voice, causing guilt to flare up. This had... not been her finest moment.

"Sorry Do– Professor Gast," she said softly.

Doctor Faremis sighed. He took off his glasses and used the edge of his coat to clean them. Lucrecia hesitated as her gaze briefly flickered towards Vincent Valentine's haunting eyes, before she squared her shoulders and utterly ignored his existence.

"Professor Gast, I apologize for my behavior back there, it was..." She trailed off uncomfortably, not really wanting to put it into words.

"Childish?" Doctor Faremis suggested dryly. And, well...

"Yes, it was. I'm sorry," Lucrecia said as her shame rose once more. It wasn't something she enjoyed feeling in the slightest, and it wasn't something she felt often either. This time it couldn't be helped though.

Because this was _Doctor Faremis_ , the man who'd proven the direct causality between MvR-compatibility and the Faremis ellel. Having a gene named after you said it all, now didn't it? Lucrecia didn't want him to think she was a petulant child who couldn't admit when she was wrong.

...Even if she might sometimes give that impression. But only sometimes.

Honestly, it wasn't her fault others refused to see reason when she was so clearly in the right. Though it was also true that she could've handled this better instead of letting her temper get the best of her.

Doctor Faremis let out a sigh and put his glasses back on. "It's not me you should be apologizing to," he chided gently, causing Lucrecia to grimace. He was right of course, but the idea of apologizing to that moron left a bad taste inside her mouth.

Still. She should've handled that better.

She should've continued throwing facts at Rani until he couldn't deny she was right anymore. Without using insults.

"I know," she admitted reluctantly. Doctor Faremis chuckled in response.

"I'm heartened to see you've retained some level of maturity at least," he teased, his usual jovial mood starting to return. Lucrecia gave him a wry smile in return. She was beginning to see the humor in this situation as well.

"It's amazing how quickly a group of scientists can dissolve into bickering children," she confessed, because it really was. And while in her previous life Lucrecia had been the furthest thing from a scientist, that didn't mean she was immune to the effect. Actually, she might be... slightly worse than the average scientist.

Lucrecia had something of a temper. Especially when she was in the right. Which was often.

Though in this particular case, it wasn't _completely_ Rani's fault. He didn't know all the facts, after all. Like the fact that Jenova wasn't a Cetra but an unholy abomination from outer space.

"That it is," Doctor Faremis agreed cheerfully, making Lucrecia grin as almost all of her shame faded away. Almost.

"I still want to apologize to you as well," she told him sincerely, needing to get the admission off her chest. "I'm sorry. I don't want to disappoint you, not when it was you who made sure I was included on this Project."

Because while this was the fucking JENOVA Project, it was still unbelievably flattering that _Doctor Faremis_ had insisted on her presence. Even him working for fucking ShinRa couldn't dampen that. This was also helped by Doctor Faremis being a closet believer of the Lifestream, and that he was genuinely unaware of Jenova's true nature. Lucrecia would also admit that if Jenova actually had been a Cetra, she would've been right there with all the others in geeking out, employed by fucking ShinRa or not.

She... still was, actually. Whenever she was working, at least.

Doctor Faremis chuckled and gave her a smile.

"Apology accepted. Though as I said, I'm not the one you should be apologizing to. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm afraid that before this little detour I was on my way to the main lab. I need to make sure Marius and Eugene haven't gotten into another... spat, I suppose. Those two rival your own achievements," he grossly exaggerated. Yes, Lucrecia knew she had something of a temper, but watching Marius and Eugene go at it was like watching live tissue come into contact with raw Mako.

"I'm nowhere near as bad as those two," she shot back firmly. Though she understood where Marius was coming from, no matter that the man was a complete ass.

While Eugene clearly knew his science, he also drew absurd conclusions based on premises that made no sense whatsoever. He also refused to admit the possibility that his premises could be flawed in any way. Marius on the other hand, refused to admit he could be capable of making any kind of mistake. But at least the man was backed up by solid research, no matter his arrogance.

Lucrecia wasn't as bad as either of those two, not by a long shot.

"Of course not," Doctor Faremis said, playful and patronizing.

Seriously, she wasn't as bad as those two.

She wasn't.

"Now then, if you'll excuse me, Lucrecia." Doctor Faremis gave her a final smile, before he turned around and continued his walk. Vincent Valentine did the same with quiet footsteps, nowhere near as loud as those of Doctor Faremis. Vincent Valentine's inscrutable expression hadn't changed this entire time either. Of course it hadn't.

Lucrecia hesitated as she watched their retreating backs. It was a stupid, insignificant thing, and yet...

"Professor Gast," she called out, making him halt and turn around with an inquisitive brow raised. Vincent Valentine turned around as well. Without the inquisitive brow of course, Vincent Valentine kept showing the same unreadable expression he always did.

Lucrecia returned to utterly ignoring his existence once more.

"Yes?" Doctor Faremis prompted as Lucrecia hesitated again. Did she really want to hear the answer to her question?

Yes, she did.

"Why me?" she asked. Lucrecia shifted her weight, extremely uncomfortable as Doctor Faremis gave her a confused look, and she crossed her arms in order to resist the urge to fidget.

"I'm sorry, what–"

"I mean why did you want me on this project?" Lucrecia hurriedly rushed out, hating how uncertain she felt. But the question had been haunting her since... well, since the moment she'd gotten over her shock about this being the fucking JENOVA Project.

Doctor Faremis's brows shot up with surprise.

"You're a highly competent Bio-Materialist. Is there a reason I shouldn't want that expertise when studying crystallized Cetra remains?" he asked in return.

Lucrecia bit down the squeal that wanted to escape at _Doctor Faremis_ calling her a highly competent Bio-Materialist and forced herself to spell out what was bothering her instead.

"There are other Bio-Materialists besides myself with far more solid reputations. One is even here. In fact, everyone here is a recognized expert in their field. I'm not. I'm well aware of my reputation as a hack. So why me?"

Doctor Farmis gave her a long, considering look, making the urge to fidget even harder to resist. Lucrecia gripped her arms tightly to prevent herself from doing so.

Doctor Farmis grinned.

Mischievously.

"It's _because_ you are ridiculed that I wanted you here."

Lucrecia could only stare at him with incredulity. What the hell did he mean by that?

Doctor Faremis' mischievous grin grew.

"Regardless of whether you're right or wrong about your own theories, your papers are carefully researched, and the science used in them is solid. Your papers also make it clear that you're not afraid to be as contrary as you want to be. That is why I wanted you here, I wanted someone to challenge any finding we make, someone who throws established premises out the window and forces us to think outside our comfort zone. And I must say Lucrecia, you haven't disappointed," he finished with satisfaction.

Lucrecia stared some more, completely stunned and gaping like a fish. Doctor Faremis simply smiled back peacefully while his green eyes danced with laughter. The sight was enough to snap Lucrecia out of her stupor and make her click jaw shut. She cleared her throat.

"So you... want me to be contrary?" she asked, needing to make sure she'd actually heard that right.

Doctor Faremis chucked, the laughter lines etched into his expression becoming even more prominent.

"Indeed I do. Though in all fairness, you aren't the only one I recruited for that particular purpose. I want the people here to be challenged and forced to doubt, to find the determination to prove that they're right or that others are wrong." As he spoke, Doctor Faremis started to gesture with his hands, green eyes brightening as passion dripped from his every word. "Because that's the most wonderful thing about this project. It doesn't matter whether we are right or wrong, what matters is that all of us examine every avenue, every premise and hypothesis, and in doing so discover things we never even dreamed were possible! _That_ is what I wish to accomplish here."

Lucrecia couldn't help but be caught up in his enthusiasm, a wide smile growing as she let her own excitement take over. Because even though this was the fucking JENOVA Project, even though she knew what Jenova really was, what this project would create, would cause, would destroy...

Jenova was just so _fascinating_. The cells behaved closer to a virus than anything else, except for all the ways they didn't. Not to mention Lucrecia simply couldn't understand how the things were still active, they'd been crystallized for millennia! What had they been feeding on all this time? And if they hadn't fed, how the hell had they managed to remain active?

Those questions barely even scratched the surface of the impossibility that was Jenova, and every finding they made only raised more questions. Lucrecia wanted to know, wanted to understand. It was the entire reason she'd become a scientist in the first place.

Because this was a world with real, functional _magic_ , and Lucrecia so desperately wanted to understand how it worked.

"...Well, I'll do my best to remain contrary then," she told Doctor Faremis as she continued smiling widely.

"But always supported by solid data of course," Doctor Faremis returned, positively beaming. To Doctor Faremis, this wasn't about proving anything, wasn't about proving that he was right. To Doctor Faremis, this was a journey of discovery.

A journey he was loving every single moment of.

Lucrecia really had to find some concrete data that could support the premise that Jenova wasn't a Cetra without sounding like a nutjob.

"And of course, remember to remain polite and civil to your colleagues when defending your own views," Doctor Faremis continued, sounding just a little pointed. Lucrecia felt a wry grin grow. She couldn't guarantee that she'd remain calm during an argument, she knew herself well enough for that. But...

"I'll do my best," she promised sincerely. Though she didn't know how long she'd be able to keep it up. Well, the insults she could do something about, and Lucrecia would make sure to do so. Her temper was another thing entirely however.

No, that felt too much like an excuse. She should be able to keep a hold on her temper for a few days. Well, she should be able to avoid letting it take over completely at least.

"Marvelous. Now if you'll excuse me Lucrecia, I really do have to go. I trust you'll behave yourself in my absence?"

"Of course. We've all been scolded enough to ensure we'll be on our best behavior for the rest of the day," she answered, partly joking, partly serious.

Doctor Faremis chuckled and shook his head with amused resignation. "And tomorrow the process will start all over again."

"Unfortunately. Though I'll do my best to make sure it doesn't devolve into name calling again," Lucrecia assured him truthfully. And she would, she'd make sure she didn't resort to name calling herself. Though she couldn't be held responsible if another began using insults first. However, Lucrecia wouldn't do the same. She would remain mature. From now on she'd only argue with indisputable facts.

Many, many indisputable facts.

Doctor Faremis smiled. "I'm glad to hear so, Lucrecia. Now, if you'll excuse me."

"Of course, Professor Gast," she answered.

With a final smile, Doctor Faremis turned around and resumed walking down the hallway, Vincent Valentine a silent ghost at his side.

"It's remarkable how much the job as head of this project resembles herding cats in a bag," Doctor Faremis told Vincent Valentine.

"If you say so, Professor Gast," Vincent Valentine returned in a polite voice that gve no hint to what he was feeling. As always.

Lucrecia kept staring at their retreating backs as they turned a corner, kept staring until their footsteps– well, the footsteps of Doctor Faremis, faded away completely. She slowly went over everything that had happened.

Lucrecia squealed.

 _Doctor Faremis_ thought she was a highly competent Bio-Materialist!

Lucrecia felt her cheeks glow, was grinning so widely she knew she had to look manic, but who cared!

A highly competent Bio-Materialist.

Lucrecia practically skipped back towards the lab, feeling like she was walking on clouds.

Right now, it was almost worth it to be working on the fucking JENOVA Project.


	4. Chapter 4

**Present**

Zack didn't know how long they stood like that, him embracing Sephiroth and Sephiroth clinging back like his life depended on it. It seemed to last forever.

Eventually, the sound of metal hitting stone made them separate and they both turned to face the source.

"Shi– sorry, I ah... I dropped..." Cloud fell silent, looking towards them with uncertain blue eyes, squinting slightly from the lack of light. His helmet laid on the floor.

Given that Zack vaguely remembered the sounds of shifting fabric and straps being unlocked, combined with the fact that Cloud was tentatively holding a hand to the back of his head, Zack felt confident to conclude that he'd taken off the bucket to check for damage and had accidentally dropped it.

Zack tried to smile, about to say it was alright– he coughed, and suddenly realized his throat was too tight, that his vision was a little blurry, emotions choking him up. After blinking rapidly a few times and clearing his throat, he managed to find his voice.

"No problem," he said. Maybe it was a little too curt, but Zack couldn't help it. He couldn't stop his eyes from immediately being drawn back towards Sephiroth either.

Sephiroth, who no longer looked furious, just lost. Sephiroth, whose heart rate had finally slowed down, though his eyes were still far too bright.

Sephiroth, who was looking over Zack's shoulder. Towards his dad.

Zack hesitated, now acutely aware of the silent presence standing behind him. He... had no idea of what he should do next.

Luckily, Zack had always been great at thinking on his feet, and because he was, he managed to find a small grin.

"So, how about we take this conversation upstairs? Because I'm guessing it's going to be a long one, and personally I could do without the delightful smell of rotting corpses. Oh, and with some food, I'm starving, what about you guys?" Zack forced himself to stop there, knowing that if he didn't the word vomit would never stop. What could he say, Zack talked when he was nervous. And only processed what he'd said after he'd already said it.

His words made Sephiroth startle and look towards Zack in blank confusion, before his gaze snapped back towards his dad and his pupils became the thinnest of slits, the glow of his eyes brightening exceptionally and heartbeat beginning to speed up again as anger started rising once more.

And they'd been doing so well too. But at least Sephiroth didn't become manic again, a _huge_ relief. Though Zack still didn't dare turn around himself. Not when Sephiroth had returned to being a predator watching his prey.

After a long moment, Sephiroth let out a harsh breath and balled his hands into fists. Zack heard the fabric of his gloves strain from the force. Yet just as Zack expected him to speak, Sephiroth didn't, his gaze moving downwards instead.

Zack chanced a quick glance towards the side, following Sephiroth's line of sight– he nearly spun around on reflex. Right next to him, hovering just above the floor, was a gloved hand that was picking up the picture that had fallen to the ground as though it was made of glass.

Zack, who'd been acutely aware of that silent presence behind him this entire time, had literally not heard Sephiroth's dad move _at all_. Which just...

That didn't happen to Zack. Not since he'd become a SOLDIER.

...Sephiroth's dad was _good_. Which duh, he was Sephiroth's dad. But Zack wouldn't deny it was also incredibly unnerving.

The absolute silence Sephiroth's dad moved with was just plain unnatural.

Sephiroth's dad's hand disappeared from his sight as soundlessly as it had appeared, holding the picture of him and Sephiroth's mom as though it was the most precious thing on the Planet.

Zack returned to watching Sephiroth, and tracked Sephiroth's dad's movements by following Sephiroth's feverish gaze. His friend looked just a few moments away from turning manic once more, so Zack decided now was a very good time to start talking again.

"Sephiroth? Want to go upstairs?" Alright, not the finest moment, but it accomplished the goal of having Sephiroth focus on him.

Sephiroth didn't reply, but the brightness of his eyes dimmed a fraction, the sensation of a predator on the hunt lessening slightly as uncertainty rose instead. A very disturbing uncertainty.

It was as though his friend didn't recognize him.

Zack cautiously laid a hand on Sephiroth's shoulder.

"Sephiroth? Want to go upstairs?" he repeated softly.

His friend didn't react, didn't even seem to be aware of Zack's words.

"I'll answer any question you have." Those words immediately dragged Sephiroth's attention back towards his dad, that terrifying rage returning with a vengeance.

"Your dad can answer them upstairs," Zack said quickly as he ignored the primal fear skittering down his spine and squeezed Sephiroth's shoulder firmly.

Sephiroth kept looking towards his dad, seemingly torn between the urge to attack him _right now_ or listen to what he had to say.

Zack mentally held his breath as he shifted his balance so that he'd be ready to stop– try to stop Sephiroth if he decided to attack his dad again. The movement drew Sephiroth's attention again, and too bright eyes met Zack's own, that terrifying rage not dying down, but another flicker of uncertainty joining it as well.

Like a dragon wondering whether it was worth the trouble of swatting him aside to get at its intended target.

Zack felt like prey for several _very_ long moments.

Sephiroth closed his eyes and let out a harsh breath.

"...We'll talk upstairs," he declared. All of Zack's breath left him in a rush of pure relief, and he felt almost faint from the sheer weight falling off his shoulders.

Sephiroth was still in control. No matter how fragile that control was.

This time Zack didn't have to try to find a grin, felt one grow without his input, unable to stop it even if he'd wanted to.

" _Awesome_. Let's get out of here." With that, Zack finally dared to turn round and face Sephiroth's dad. Who didn't react in the slightest to his movements, simply kept gazing towards Sephiroth. Who was his son.

That fact hit Zack with the force of Alexander once more, but he quickly shook himself out of it. Debating briefly on what to do, Zack decided he needed to take the risk of turning his back towards both Sephiroth and his dad. Someone had to lead. For once, it seemed as though Sephiroth wouldn't be the one to do it.

"Alright then, follow me," Zack said, before he determinedly started walking towards Cloud. Zack kept his full focus on the two people behind him, ready to spin around and interfere in an instant. He let out a silent sigh of relief as he heard Sephiroth's barely audible footsteps follow. His friend's heartbeat remained comfortably steady as well, even if it was still a little too fast.

Sephiroth's dad he didn't hear following _at all_ , but Sephiroth wouldn't have started moving if his dad hadn't either.

Vincent. Sephiroth's dad was named Vincent. Zack should probably stop thinking about him as Sephiroth's dad.

Zack reached the place he'd dropped the damaged Buster Sword and picked it up. And suddenly he had to blink back tears, needed to swallow harshly, his throat too tight. Because Angeal's blade was _cracked_.

The sharp inhale behind him made Zack turn around, and he saw Sephiroth gaze at the damaged Buster Sword with an awareness that had been lacking before. Gaze at it with rising incredulity.

For a single moment Zack could feel nothing but pure _fury_ because _Sephiroth had damaged Angeal's blade!_ Yet the moment was over as soon as it began. Not in the least because Sephiroth was now gazing towards the crack running across Angeal's blade with true sorrow and regret. With shame.

Because Zack knew that Sephiroth would've _never_ damaged Angeal's blade if he'd been in his right mind.

As Zack swung the damaged Buster Sword onto his back, Sephiroth's gaze moved to meet his own, the sorrow, regret and shame in them growing stronger. Sephiroth also remained furious, but right now that was slightly less important than the other things he was showing.

"Zack, I'm sorry," Sephiroth said softly, sounding more like himself than he had since this entire disaster had started. That, more than anything else, made Zack forgive him. So he waved the apology away.

"It's alright–" he began even though it really wasn't, but Sephiroth interrupted him before he could say anything more.

"No, it's not alright," his friend stated, holding Zack's gaze. "What I did is unforgivable," he finished softly, clenching his jaw in a way Zack only knew meant self-loathing because of how well he knew him.

Zack swallowed down the block inside his throat and tried to smile cheerfully as he shrugged.

"I know it was an accident Sephiroth. And hey, it's not like it can't be fixed," Zack said in what he thought was an impressive display of nonchalance. It didn't sound real of course, but still. It was a good effort.

Sephiroth shook his head in disagreement as he clenched his jaw even harder. Yet all the while he remained so terrifyingly furious as well.

"That's no excuse, nor is this something that should simply be forgiven. You have every right to be angry with me Zack, and I'll do whatever you wish of me to make up for this. Though I know I will never be able to," Sephiroth told him, regretful and determined, more like himself with every word he spoke.

Zack knew Sephiroth meant it. That made it easy to smile genuinely, even if it was just a small one. Zack also knew that if he said it was fine, Sephiroth would find other ways to punish himself. So seeing as that was going to happen anyway, Zack decided to... use the situation to his advantage.

That though felt much too Turk-like for comfort. But desperate times and all that.

"How about you make it up by keeping a cool head when talking with your dad? Pretty sure that's going to be a difficult enough challenge," Zack returned in a fairly pointed voice, because Sephiroth keeping a cool head was _definitely_ the most important thing here.

Sephiroth briefly flickered a glance towards his dad. Vincent was still watching the proceedings without any expression whatsoever, only the intensity of his eyes and the way he never looked away from Sephiroth betraying the illusion of calm.

Sephiroth clenched his fists and his rage began rising once more. It made both Zack and Cloud tense up. Luckily, Sephiroth looked back towards Zack and inclined his head as he visibly reigned in his emotions.

"I will," Sephiroth said in a voice that was practically normal after all that had happened. Zack let out a harsh breath as a sharp burst of relief overtook him.

If Sephiroth lost it again, Zack knew he'd do everything he could to stop his friend. Zack also knew he would fail, he wasn't simply strong enough to stop Sephiroth. Not when Sephiroth really let go.

No one could.

Really, this entire disaster was giving him a whole new level of respect for the control Sephiroth usually had. Because _damn_ , Zack had known how huge the gap between "the Silver General" and everyone else was. First hand even, courtesy of their spars. Yet this was the first time he truly grasped just what that meant. Which was stupid, Zack himself had needed to learn to keep a brutal control over his own temper after he'd become a SOLDIER, rare as it was. All SOLDIERS had to, the damage they could do if they forget their own strength even for a little while, sometimes even for a single moment, was catastrophic. However, they all had the comfort of knowing they could be stopped if they ever really lost it.

Sephiroth didn't have that comfort. If he ever lost it, Zack honestly wasn't sure whether there was anything on the Planet that could stop him. Except maybe–

Yeah, no. Zack would rather have Sephiroth completely lose it than face the thing Vincent could turn into again. While rationally speaking that made no sense whatsoever, his every instinct literally _forced_ him to change his mind whenever he tried to think the opposite might be true.

That was incredibly unnerving. It was also completely irrelevant for now.

"I'll hold you to that. Now let's go somewhere more comfortable," Zack declared, getting back on track.

Zack waited until Sephiroth inclined his head, before he moved towards Cloud, slung his arm around his shoulders and turned the both of them around. Cloud stumbled slightly as Zack basically forced him to start walking. Maybe not the nicest thing to do, but suddenly the underground hallway was too claustrophobic, bearing down on him and Zack really wanted to get out of here _right now_.

Also, Zack was the one who'd dragged Cloud into this mess. He figured the least he should do was get him out of it as well. Poor Cloud, he'd been constantly confused and terrified ever since they'd first set foot in that basement.

"You sure you're alright Cloud?" Zack asked. Yes, Zack was aware that he was repeating himself but he just wanted to keep conversation flowing. In part because of the nervous tension still running through him, in part to relax Cloud, and in part to give Sephiroth something else to focus on besides his creepily soundless dad.

Even when talking to Cloud, however, Zack kept aiming all of his awareness on the two following behind him.

"Yeah, just a bump," Cloud answered softly, saying nothing more. His fear was still pretty strong, though it wasn't the pure terror from before. Which not only explained why Cloud had been so quiet this entire time, but why he kept being so quiet right now as well.

"Want me to cast Sense on you?" Zack asked, Cloud declined with a shake of his head. Zack hadn't really been expecting him to speak, so he simply resumed his chatter after that non-verbal answer. Well, sort of chatter.

Zack needed to get Cloud away from here for a while, if only so he could warn the rest of his squad. Also, while Zack really did welcome the backup, the truth was that this entire situation was far too volatile, especially for someone unenhanced. As evidenced by Zack feeling like he was being stalked like a Midgar Zolom and a ghost.

"If you're sure. Hey, when we get up stairs can you go get us some food? Real food, not those crappy ration bars. Well, not only those crappy ration bars, something hearty as well. Oh, how about stew from the inn?" That not only got Cloud away from here, but it would also mean that Sephiroth would soon get something to eat. After all, Sephiroth hadn't left the mansion for over two days, which meant he hadn't eaten or slept in all that time either. That couldn't be healthy.

Every little bit that helped Sephiroth get back to normal was more than welcome.

"Get lots of it and I mean _lots_ , SOLDIER appetite you know? I'm so hungry I could eat a chocobo," Zack continued half chattering, half giving orders. Luckily, Cloud knew him well enough to realize that he was being serious, as evidenced by him straightening up beneath Zack's hold. "And since you'll be at the inn, tell the others to stay away from here until they're told otherwise. Oh, and don't forget to contact HQ. Think you can do that?" Zack finished.

"...Sure," Cloud answered softly after it became clear Zack was waiting on an answer.

Really, Zack was impressed with Cloud. For all his confusion and fear, Cloud had held up like a champ. He'd never even shot his rifle, something that was genuinely impressive now that Zack thought back to it, what with a furious Sephiroth and that... thing. Oh, Cloud had aimed his rifle towards both Sephiroth and Vincent several times, but that was just normal behavior. Zack himself had reached for, and even drawn the damaged Buster Sword several times. Cloud had never fired though. He hadn't made any move to run away either.

That last was even more impressive than Cloud not shooting.

"Awesome, I'll trust you to pick the best stew as well, you're the native after all. Just make sure it's a lot, enough to feed an entire company or something," Zack finished ordering and started babbling instead. "You know, there was this one time when I got stuck in the Marshes and all my ration bars were gone by the third day, so I had to–"

Zack kept chattering on. He knew he sounded too forced, but honestly, Zack figured he'd earned the right big time. Not just because of what had just happened, but also because of what was to come. After all, after they got upstairs and Cloud left to get some food, Zack was going to have to referee a conversation between Sephiroth and his dad. A conversation he already knew was going to be _extremely_ terrifying, emotionally painful, and with far too high odds of pushing Sephiroth over the edge once more, promise to keep a cool head or not. Though not having the conversation wasn't an option, that would make Sephiroth snap for sure.

The threat of Sephiroth snapping would be enough to have anyone worried and frightened out of their minds. The fact that Sephiroth was also Zack's friend just added another dimension to that worry and fear. But Zack was determined to ensure things would turn out alright.

Zack hadn't been able to reach Angeal when he'd needed him the most.

He wouldn't fail with Sephiroth as well.

* * *

**Past**

"What are you doing?!" Lucrecia yelled with her heart stuck in her throat as she shot out of her chair and snatched Orin's descending hand before he could activate the MP-chamber. Orin started violently, before he rolled his eyes in exasperation. He yanked his hand back and gave her a dirty look.

"I'm _trying_ to chart the primary fluctuations when exposed to active Thunder Materia," he told her mockingly. Lucrecia balled her fists and felt a tremble run through her, still overwhelmed by anger and incredulity, because what was this idiot thinking?

"By activating a fully mastered Thunder Materia inside _a closed system?_ " she furiously shot back. In return, Orin rolled his eyes again, exasperated and dismissive and a brainless moron!

"Crescent, that's what MP-chambers are for," he said derisively.

Lucrecia wanted to tear her hair out.

"And procedure states you need to shut down every connected energy source when using any form of Thunder in a MP-chamber to prevent a potential catastrophic chain reaction!" she yelled back, knowing she looked crazy and not caring in the slightest because what was this imbecile even thinking, how could he–

Orin scoffed, annoyed and frustrated and a Hades touched _moron!_

"The odds of that happening are point zero zero one at most and you know it. I have higher chances of getting glitched results," he snapped back, completely ignoring what this was actually about.

"That's not the point!" Lucrecia screamed as she dug her nails into her palms, feeling herself shake with pure rage and hysterical incredulity as she kept glaring at the irresponsible, foolhardy, harebrained, thick headed _imbecile!_

"Those procedures are in place for a reason, namely making sure we don't get killed!" she furiously continued.

Orin scowled deeply and glared right back at her.

"So you want me to interrupt every ongoing experiment here, shut down every adjoined power source, which means they'll need recalibration after they're started up again, adding a full twenty four hours of work to an experiment that'll take forty-five minutes without it?" he shot back scatingly.

"Yes, that's exactly what you should do!" she yelled as she waved her hands around, had to express her fury and terror because this shortsighted moron was going to get them all killed!

Orin briefly raised his eyes towards the ceiling as he let out a deep sigh, before he returned to glaring at her.

"You're overreacting," he actually had the nerve to declare.

Lucrecia stared at him in bewildered astonishment, for a moment at a complete loss for words, literally incapable of processing that statement. Then her fury returned with a vengeance and she needed to resist the urge to strangle the unbelievable stupid, foolish, idiotic _moron!_

" _I'm_ overreacting? I'm trying to make sure we don't all get killed, you pig headed imbecile!" she screamed, uncaring that she was using insults, because this wasn't being childish, this was _preventing the brain damaged moron from getting them all killed!_

"I don't take orders from a _hack_ ," Orin snapped back with a furious glare.

Lucrecia wanted to wring the moron's neck _so much_. She opened her mouth, another wave of vicious insults on the tip of her tongue–

"Lucrecia is right, you're an imbecile," Marius's snide voice said before she could speak. Lucrecia startled violently as she remembered he was even here and she snapped her eyes towards him. She saw a derisive sneer aimed towards Orin as Marius leaned back in his chair, the man oozing arrogance as always. From the corner of her vision, Lucrecia noted Orin recover from his own surprise and become indignant.

"I don't have to listen to insults like that," he retorted.

"Then don't be an imbecile. You would risk not only our equipment, but Jenova herself, all because you're an impatient child–"

"Oh, get over yourself. Orin's right, the risk is insignificant," Eugene snapped, making Lucrecia remember he was here as well. Lucrecia turned her gaze towards him, and she saw Eugene glare towards Marius from where he was sitting at his own station.

"Thank you!" Orin exclaimed as he gave both Marius and her a smug look.

Lucrecia turned to face him again with a furious snarl as her mind refocused on what was important here.

"Just because _you're_ an idiot it doesn't give you the right to put _our_ lives in danger!" she snapped at Orin, only absently aware that Marius scoffed derisively and started arguing with Eugene.

"Well just because you're an arrogant _brat_ , it doesn't give you the right to order me–" Orin said as he stood up and tried to intimidate her with his height. The only reason Lucrecia didn't step forward to show how unintimated she was, was because she knew she would punch the moron if she came any closer.

"I damn well have every right if you're going to _play with our lives!_ " she hissed back, digging her nails into her palms once more to prevent herself from punching the moron anyway. Orin's scowl grew deeper.

"You're being–"

"Doctors!" Elizabeth exclaimed in an extremely loud voice, drawing everyone's focus to where she and Dorian were seated. "Let's keep this civil, shall we?" she continued more softly with her familiar disapproving frown. "This is not about expertise or experience, this is about being professional. Being professional means following regulations, including disconnecting all–"

"For Shiva's sake, the risk is insignificant!" Orin exclaimed as he threw his hands up.

Lucrecia returned to glaring up at him and opened her mouth to correct the brainless moron, because what the hell was he even thinking, calling this _insignificant?_

"I have to agree with Orin on this one. I've used various forms of Thunder in MP-chambers without disconnecting the other power sources, and I've never had any issues," Dorian said, instantly drawing Lucrecia's attention. She saw the thin man give Elizabeth an apologetic look.

"So you'll risk _this_ being the time it goes wrong?" Lucrecia snapped at him, making Dorian startle and turn to face her.

"What? No, I'm just pointing out–"

"That you were an imbecile before and you're an imbecile now," Marius finished with a sneer.

"And of course _you_ are a genius." Eugene's voice was dripping with sarcasm. Marius gave him an unimpressed look in return.

"Exactly," he said as though it was the most obvious thing on the Planet.

"You–"

"Can we get back on track here? Orin should follow procedures–" Elizabeth interjected, before being cut off herself.

"The risk is so small it's insignificant!" Orin exclaimed, looking completely fed up.

"Insignificant?" Lucrecia repeated incredulously, once more unable to believe what the imbecile was saying. "There's a _reason_ we have these protocols and–"

"Lucrecia, _shut up_ ," Orin snapped.

"Don't tell me to–"

"You don't have the right–"

"She's overreacting."

"She isn't, this is–"

"–second rate at best."

"Why you arrogant–"

"–will disconnect every damn–"

"–greasy slug who can't even–"

"–stop this? It's getting–"

"–mature, but what else–"

"–a paranoid hack–"

"–I'm not getting between–"

"–responsible, you fucking–"

"–my research is highly–"

"–are literally one in–"

"–of the worst I've ever–"

"–disconnect them myself–"

" _Enough!_ " The shout echoed through the lab and all eyes snapped towards Doctor Faremis, who stood in the open doorway, looking absolutely _furious_.

Lucrecia gazed at him in confusion, disoriented by his sudden appearance. She saw Mike standing behind him, nervously shifting in place.

Wait. Hadn't Mike been at one of the stations?

"I thought I'd made myself clear by now, but apparently I was wrong. So let me repeat myself one more time. Behavior like this is unacceptable. You're all intelligent adults. _Act like it_." Doctor Faremis' angry snap made Lucrecia wince, and she averted her eyes towards the floor as inadvertent shame rose. But then she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin as her shame disappeared completely. She wasn't in the wrong, not about this.

Never about this.

"Now," Doctor Faremis said before she could start defending herself. "Elizabeth, if you would be so kind as to explain to me what caused this childish behavior?" he ordered in a hard voice. Elizabeth hesitated only for a moment, before she straightened her spine and smoothed out her expression.

"Orin wanted to chart the primary fluctuations when exposed to a minor Thunder. When he was about to activate the MP-chamber, Lucrecia stopped him and pointed out that regulations stated all other power sources had to be disconnected before doing so. Orin retorted that the risk was minimal. Things... escalated from there," she said.

"I see," Doctor Faremis stated, before he let out a tired sigh and pulled off his glasses to rub at his eyes with one hand.

No one spoke.

Doctor Faremis let out another sigh.

"Orin, while I understand your frustration, you must follow regulations," Doctor Faremis said as he put his glasses back on. Orin gave him an utterly betrayed look.

"What! But–"

"This is _not_ negotiable. Those regulations are in place to ensure to ensure the safety of you and your colleagues. You will follow them to the letter. Is that understood, Doctor Devir?" Doctor Faremis demanded, green eyes hard.

"...Yes, Professor Gast," Orin agreed with a combination of shame and mulish defiance.

Lucrecia immediately let out a harsh breath, the sudden relief overwhelming. Abruptly she was lightheaded, her throat becoming too tight, breathing too shallow, the walls seeming to press down on her, reminding her too much of–

She had to get out of here.

"Thank you," Doctor Faremis said, the previous severity flying out of him. "Now then, I trust I will be able to leave and be confident that all of you'll behave like the adults you are?" he demanded in a pointed voice.

"Yes, Professor Gast." The agreement sounded from different voices, though Lucrecia and Marius simply nodded.

Lucrecia just couldn't manage to find her voice, couldn't stop trembling, had to get out of here.

Doctor Faremis met everyone's gaze one by one. He halted as he met her own, his expression growing worried.

"Lucrecia, are you alright?" he asked. Lucrecia swallowed harshly, the walls too close, too confined, too much like–

"Yes Professor Gast, I'm _fin_ –" Lucrecia cut herself off as her voice broke. "I– Excuse me, I need some air."

Lucrecia bolted before Doctor Faremis could reply, quickly moving past him and Mike, leaving the too confined lab behind, running through the hallway, flying up the stairs, entering the entrance foyer– Lucrecia froze, heart racing, ears ringing, because Grimoire's son was walking down the stairs and turning to look at her _with Grimoire's eyes!_

Lucrecia couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't look at those _eyes_ – She ran to the doors, yanked them open and sprinted across the grass, fleeing those eyes, still felt them following her, haunting her, she couldn't stop _remembering_ –

She dropped to her knees on the cold grass and hugged herself, squeezed her eyes shut as tears rose and a sob escaped her. Lucrecia bit down her lip to stop herself from crying because she didn't have _any_ right to feel like this. She shivered, kept her eyes squeezed shut and choked back tears as she bit down her lip so hard she almost drew blood.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Keep it together, Lucrecia, just _keep it together_.

She didn't know how long she sat there, shivering and forcing herself to keep breathing, the cold biting into her skin. But eventually, she felt her trembles subside and her tears fade, her mind starting to clear. Lucrecia let out a hissed breath and brought up a hand to wipe away the remaining moisture clinging to her lashes.

She was overreacting in the worst of ways. She knew that.

About this, she always did.

What Orin said was true, the risk was minimal. And when in the grip of curiosity, when lost in the excitement of discovery, when ruled by passion...

It was so easy to cut a few corners, ignore a few safety measures. The ones that in practically every situation wouldn't be needed anyway. It was so easy to assume that things wouldn't go wrong.

Until suddenly it did.

Lucrecia shivered violently.

One moment. That was all it took, _one_ moment where something went wrong, where you _needed_ those safety measures and they... weren't there.

Because she had decided they weren't necessary.

Lucrecia harshly bit down her bottom lip once more.

It had been a stupid accident that killed Grimoire. An accident that could've been avoided if she'd just _followed regulations_.

She hadn't.

Lucrecia felt another wave of tear begin to rise as her breathing turned irregular once more.

No matter that Grimoire had conceded to her decision to skip those protocols, the fact remained that the accident was her fault.

She'd killed Grimoire. The man who'd taken her under his wing after she'd finished college and hadn't known what to do anymore. The man who'd always believed in her, no matter how outlandish her theories. Who'd come up with even more outlandish ones in return, who'd delighted in arguing opposite views. Grimoire, with his quicksilver mind, his kind smile, his endless patience.

He was dead because of her.

Lucrecia ruthlessly suppressed a new wave of tears and took deep, calming breaths. She refused to give in to the pity party lurking at the edge of her mind, refused to give in to the self-loathing. She wouldn't disrespect Grimoire's memory like that, wouldn't make this about her when he was the one who'd died.

Lucrecia determinedly stood up, shoulder straight and chin held high. It had been over seven years ago. The past couldn't be changed. Feeling self-loathing over it was nothing more than a childish wish to be comforted for something she didn't deserve to be comforted about anyway. Lucrecia wouldn't let herself to feel like that when Grimoire was the one who'd died.

But she would _never_ allow herself to repeat the same mistake.

Finally feeling like she was back in control, Lucrecia turned around– she screamed.

Grimoire's son gave her a look that didn't reveal anything at all.

"You– Make some fucking noise!" Lucrecia heard herself yell as she clutched at her racing heart, her mind thrown into turmoil once more, and the self-loathing returning with a vengeance.

No. She had even less right to feel like that when Grimoire's son was standing in front of her.

"I didn't mean to startle you," Grimoire's son said in his ever polite voice. "I came to see whether you were alright. You seem distressed."

Lucrecia grimaced and closed her eyes as she tried to find her equilibrium again.

"I'm fine," she answered curtly as she kept her eyes closed.

Grimoire's son didn't answer. So Lucrecia let out a harsh breath and forced herself to meet Grimoire's eyes.

"I'm _fine_ ," she repeated more forcefully.

Grimoire's son remained just as unreadable as before as he kept looking at her with his father's eyes. Lucrecia couldn't help but grimace and avert her own.

It was always hard to be within Grimoire's son's presence, difficult to not get dragged down by the past. But right now it was so much worse than usual. Lucrecia felt too raw, too vulnerable.

Too guilty.

So she stubbornly lifted her chin and started marching back towards the mansion, completely ignoring Grimoire's son and his father's eyes as she passed by him. Lucrecia was resolute. She going to freshen up, and then she was going to throw herself into her work once more.

It was the best way she knew to respect Grimoire's memory.

If his son had a problem with that, or with anything else for that matter, he could just say so to her face. If not, then Lucrecia was perfectly happy to ignore the fact that he even existed.

Maybe that was disrespectful to Grimoire, maybe she should try to reach out. Except Lucrecia didn't _want_ to reach out, didn't want to constantly be reminded of the past. No matter how selfish that was.

But then, Lucrecia was a very selfish person. Besides, she felt confident that Grimoire's son wouldn't want her to reach out anyway, no matter that he always so annoyingly inscrutable.

Who would ever want to get to know their father's murderer?


	5. Chapter 5

**Present**

Zack shifted his balance, extremely uncomfortable. Not just because of the itching caused by his newly healed ribs and the fear still tainting his every thought either.

Cloud had disappeared to get some much needed food, and Zack was now standing in the decrepit entrance foyer. He leaned against the dusty staircase, one leg bent and placed on the wood behind him so that he'd be best able to propel himself forward in an instant. In front of him stood Sephiroth and his dad. Sephiroth and his dad kept staring at each other in silence, both of them unnaturally still. Like two Summons facing off. Terrifying.

Awkward.

There really was a part of Zack that didn't want to be here, this was clearly a family issue. However, seeing as Sephiroth had tried to _strangle_ his dad, and Vincent hadn't defended himself in any way, Zack felt that leaving right now would be the most irresponsible thing he'd ever done. Which was saying something.

That was all without getting into Zack's refusal to let a situation like Angeal happen again.

"So," he began after it had become more than clear that neither Sephiroth nor Vincent were planning on breaking the silence. "How about we start at the beginning? How did you meet Sephiroth's mom?" Because really, the previous answer Vincent had given to that question, wasn't an answer at all.

His words immediately made Sephiroth's eyes brighten further, and he clenched the hands held behind his back into tight fists. Zack heard the gloves tear apart from the force Sephiroth was exerting.

Wow, they hadn't even started yet and Sephiroth was already struggling to remain in control.

Vincent kept silent for far too long, making Zack shift his weight uneasily. Sephiroth just kept on being terrifying.

Just as Zack was about to repeat himself, Vincent spoke.

Seriously, he had to be doing that on purpose.

"I was a member of ShinRa's Department of Administrative Research, and was assigned to monitor the Jenova Project. Lucrecia was one of the scientists recruited to work on it. We first met in this mansion. At first, our relationship was strictly professional. Or rather, I disliked her and she did her best to ignore my existence."

Zack blinked. That was a little surprising, Vincent was obviously in love with Sephiroth's mo– Lucrecia, so hearing that they didn't get along at first was kind of unexpected.

On the other hand, Zack shouldn't be making assumptions, seeing as he still didn't understand what exactly was going on here. He only knew for certain that the damn Jenova Project was at the center of it, that it had played a pivotal role in Angeal's and Sephiroth's birth, that both of Sephiroth's parents had worked on the Project, that Sephiroth had apparently been experimented on while incredibly young, and that for some reason, Vincent had believed both Sephiroth and his mom had died.

Oh, and that Vincent wasn't human. Not anymore, at least. It wasn't just because of his freaky heartbeat, his unnatural way of moving, or even the thing he could turn into either, though all those were more than enough to qualify. But there was also the fact that, now that Zack no longer being choked by the overwhelming stench of death and decay, he was able to tell that Vincent _didn't have a scent_. Sephiroth's dad smelled of dust, dirt, rotting Makonoid corpses, some remaining traces of stale air, and _nothing_ else. Not a single indicator of sweat, hormones, blood, skin oils, or any other base scent. Zack couldn't even smell spit.

Not to mention that in the better light here, it was incredibly obvious that Vincent's blood, for some utterly inexplicable reason, didn't flow. Zack could see that Vincent did have blood inside his veins, no matter that he couldn't smell it, yet it didn't move. Vincent's heart was beating, even if it was far too slow and too soft, but it wasn't pumping blood.

Yeah, truth was, Vincent was just plain wrong. Yet somehow, in a way Zack couldn't really put into words, Vincent's wrongness was masked by his attractiveness, turning him from what should be freakishly unsettling, into creepy as hell in an oddly alluring way.

Then again, this was Sephiroth's dad, and Sephiroth had to have gotten his ridiculous prettiness from somewhere. His no longer human dad was as good an explanation as any. A better explanation than most, in fact, and definitely more preferable than the explanation that Sephiroth's too perfect beauty was caused by the experimentation done on him. No matter that Zack knew that was the most likely answer.

Angeal had been too handsome as well.

Honestly, the revelation that Sephiroth wasn't completely human hadn't come as a surprise to Zack. It had been a shock, yes, but not a surprise. In fact, looking back, it was a lot more surprising that Zack hadn't come to that conclusion before fucking Genesis had. It was just pointing out the obvious.

For Shiva's sake, Sephiroth _didn't sweat_. Ever.

Zack was aware that his thoughts were rambling, he just couldn't help it. This entire situation was like being in the middle of combat, and Vincent's silence was making everything so much worse. That all was without adding in Sephiroth's constant predator vibes.

Zack was doing his best not to interfere more than necessary, but is these two didn't start talking soon, Zack would do it for them. Luckily, he didn't need to. Yet.

"Why did you dislike her?" Sephiroth _finally_ demanded from his dad in a carefully controlled voice. Vincent, frustratingly enough, kept silent for entire seconds once more.

To a SOLDIER in combat, seconds were eternities. So to speed things up, Zack was about to repeat that question. Sure enough, that was when Vincent answered.

"Years before the Jenova Project, Lucrecia worked together with my father. During a containment failure of... a volatile substance, a consequence of both my father and Lucrecia ignoring some safety measures, my father died. While it was unintentional, Lucrecia was partly responsible for his death. For that I... disliked her," he finished, and just... seriously?

Zack didn't want to take away from the gravity of the situation, but this entire thing sounded like something straight out of the crappy dramas he and Aerith made fun off and totally weren't addicted to.

Vincent didn't say anything more, and Zack truly didn't know whether it was because he just didn't know what to say next or for an entirely different reason. Honestly though, any kind of continuation would be good.

Yet Zack hesitated from saying something. Because Sephiroth, while frustrated, impatient and _furious_ in a way that kept making Zack's animal instincts whimper, was also remaining in control of himself.

Zack really should keep his own interference to a minimum.

"What exactly is Jenova?" Sephiroth asked, the question catching Zack completely off guard. He'd honestly thought that Sephiroth would want to ask about his parents more. Yet while Zack was caught off guard by the question, he desperately wanted to know the answer to this as well. Wanted to know why Angeal–

Vincent kept silent. Again.

Zack was beginning to suspect Sephiroth's dad always needed time to decide on what to say. This was apparently always a difficult task to accomplish as well. Zack resisted the urge to repeat that question, and reminded himself that he needed to keep his interference to a minimum.

"...It was believed to be the body of an Ancient, preserved by the Materia Crystal it was found in," Vincent eventually began. "But it wasn't a Ancient, J͞҉̧e͏ǹ̡o̵v̨a̕–"

Zack tensed even further as Vincent's voice straddled the very edge of becoming other, his eyes flashing gold and his cloak soundlessly rustling in that so disturbing way. After another moment of silence, Vincent continued as though the loss of control hadn't happened.

"I don't know what it is. Though– Lucrecia once called it an unholy abomination from outer space. I'm inclined to believe her," Vincent finished, the hitch in his voice only registering because of how close Zack was paying him attention.

Zack gaped.

Did Vincent just say that Jenova was an alien? As in, an actual life form from outer space? And he meant it seriously?

Judging from Vincent's continuing lack of expression and the burning gaze still attempting to drill holes in his son's head, Zack concluded that yes. Yes, he did.

A disappeared mother, a shapeshifting father, a lost son, and an alien from outer space.

This really was a crappy drama.

Sephiroth closed his eyes, ground his teeth hard enough to crack diamond, and clenched his fists so tightly that Zack heard his nails dig into flesh and smelled the blood Sephiroth was drawing from his own palms. Sephiroth remained in control of himself, though.

Zack kept quiet.

"...Why was Jenova named my mother?" Sephiroth eventually asked in a way that said he didn't want to hear the answer. Yet when Vincent stayed quiet, again, Sephiroth opened his eyes, terrifying fury and pure desperation all mingled together.

"Why?" he half threatened, half begged.

Vincent kept quiet _again_. But seeing as Sephiroth remained in control of himself, even though he was also kept waiting for his dad's answer like a Midgar Zolom hunting in a marsh, Zack figured he shouldn't interfere. Yet.

This was between Sephiroth and his dad.

"...I can only assume it was Hojo's work," Vincent finally answered in another so carefully controlled voice.

Zack wanted to facepalm, or maybe cry a little. Really? Was Vincent allergic to straight answers or something? Okay, fine, he was a Turk, but Sephiroth was his _son_. Vincent should at least try.

Though Zack supposed that Sephiroth's dad might be trying. But if he was, he also sucked at it. Big time.

Judging from the way Sephiroth _snarled with rage_ , he felt the same.

Zack loudly cleared his throat and did his best to ignore the rise in his constant fear as Sephiroth turned furious eyes towards him. And towards the damaged Buster Sword, prominently displayed right next to Zack.

Sephiroth stilled as he gazed towards the fracture running across Angeal's blade, before he ground his teeth so hard they should by all rights have been turned to dust. Zack heard Sephiroth's nails scrape bone as his friend took deep, calming breaths, visibly regaining control as he kept looking at the fracture running across the metal.

Manipulative? Yes. Given the situation, Zack felt he could be more than forgiven. He also felt that Cissnei and the others had been rubbing off on him way too much.

He'd have to thank them next time he saw them.

"When Lucrecia became pregnant, she didn't leave the Project." Vincent's statement immediately drew Sephiroth's attention again. Which made his dad fall silent again. Of course it did.

Honestly, the only sign of how much Vincent himself was struggling with... everything, aside from the occasional shapeshifting –which, seriously, _shapeshifting_ – was the fact that Vincent was unnaturally still on purpose, though that last was incredibly hard to determine, even for a SOLDIER.

"...By the time she became pregnant, Hojo had taken over the Project," Vincent finally continued when neither Zack nor the predatory still Sephiroth spoke. "He refused to allow her to leave. Supposedly because he had no desire to lose one of the only scientists he didn't consider a complete waste of air. Given the equipment available in the mansion, it was decided that Lucrecia would remain until the final month of her pregnancy, barring unforeseen complications. H̢̕oj҉͘ơ̷–"

Vincent closed golden eyes. Sephiroth kept looking towards his dad like he was nothing but prey.

After another nerve wracking moment of silence, Vincent continued speaking as though the loss in control hadn't happened.

"Hojo decided that the best way to give a human the abilities of– that supposed Ancient, the main goal of the project, was by introducing its cells into an unborn _child_ –" Sephiroth's dad's voice broke and he opened his eyes, his composure completely shattered, showing overwhelming anguish and guilt.

"We didn't know," Vincent whispered as he looked towards Sephiroth. Towards his son.

Zack grimaced and balled his own hands into fists. This entire story was becoming more horrifying with every word said. Apparently, Sephiroth hadn't just been young when he'd been experimented on, he hadn't even been born yet.

Like Angeal.

Sephiroth himself was now looking at Vincent in a too wild way, his heart speeding up, and Zack tensed even further in response, ready to spring into action–

Sephiroth laughed, and it made _every_ hair on Zack's body shoot up straight. He watched with wide eyes as Sephiroth tilted back his head and aimed an unseeing gaze towards the ceiling.

"Genesis was right. I am a monster," Sephiroth said, his voice terrifyingly dead. Zack grit his teeth as anger and panic attempted to take over, because there was no way if he was going to allow fucking Genesis to ruin another friend of his.

But Zack didn't get the chance to do anything.

" _N̛͢҉͢͡ó̢_."

Zack froze, couldn't help it because the thing was almost taking over Vincent, his cloak whirling as grey crawled beneath what was barely human skin anymore, blazing orbs aimed at Sephiroth.

" _Y̨̢͝o͏ų ͘͟ar̢en̷̷'͏̵t a̶ ̧͘͜mo͝n̨̡st͜er̛, y̷̴̢o̕͟u̴̸'re̴̸–_ " Abruptly the almost thing turned into Vincent once more. "Sephiroth, you're beautiful," he finished in a broken voice.

And Sephiroth _smiled_ , the sight wrong on so many levels. His gaze became disturbingly vacant once more, the glow dimming until it was barely even there.

"You know nothing about me. A meaningless stranger with meaningless words," Sephiroth declared in that awful dead voice.

Vincent recoiled as though struck, before he quickly forced his expression to smooth out. Only his eyes continued to betray him.

"I know you," Zack interjected, making sure his voice was hard and absolute. Zack didn't allow his rising panic to take over because he'd sworn he would _never_ let something like Angeal happen again.

Sephiroth kept staring blankly into space. Zack grit his teeth and balled his fists as his panic rose even higher, his mind racing on what to say, how to get through to Sephiroth.

"So you think Angeal was a monster?" Zack forced himself to ask. This time Sephiroth flickered unseeing eyes towards him. "Angeal was born because of the Jenova Project too. Was he a monster?" Zack continued, daring Sephiroth to agree.

Sephiroth's unseeing eyes turned towards the fracture running across Angeal's blade.

"...I suppose he was."

For a moment the words couldn't register, before Zack was overtaken by white hot _rage_. He lunged forward and yanked Sephiroth closer by his jacket, unable to think, feeling nothing but _fury_ –

"Don't you dare defile Angeal by–" Zack began, barely able to choke out the words, red haze clouding his vision, ears ringing because _how dare he_ –

Sephiroth grasped Zack's arm and pulled him behind himself, and Zack spun on his heel–

Sephiroth was holding down Vincent's wrist.

"Do _not_ touch him," Sephiroth hissed so viciously it made Zack take a step back, his rage obliterated by primal fear. The part of him still capable of rational thought wondered when Vincent had even moved.

"Of course," Vincent agreed in a mockery of a steady voice, body frozen, and not even breathing.

Zack clenched his fists and forced himself to push through his terror and returning anger, to clear his head.

Sephiroth released his too tight grip on his dad's wrist, and Vincent immediately took a few soundless steps backwards. Zack let out a harsh breath, refusing to allow his anger to take over again as he took a few steps forward and came to stand besides Sephiroth.

"Sephiroth," Zack said sharply. Sephiroth stopped glaring at his dad and looked towards him instead.

Zack was deeply disturbed by the way Sephiroth's eyes became unseeing once more, their glow dimmer than Zack had ever known them to be. The sight erased the last traces of his anger.

Sephiroth wasn't in his right mind. He was like Angeal had been when–

Zack took a deep breath.

"Angeal was a great man. A great friend. Don't insult him by saying he was a monster. You know he wasn't," he said, trying to make his voice calm and unyielding. He only managed to sound tight and pleading instead.

Sephiroth's lifeless expression broke, regretful and ashamed, just for a moment.

"...I know," he admitted softly.

Zack let out another harsh breath and lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck, feeling completely wrung out. He cautiously brought up a hand to squeeze Sephiroth's shoulder.

His friend didn't react at all, the brief spark of life already gone. That, more than anything else, frightened Zack.

It was like Sephiroth had given up. Like Angeal–

" _You_ aren't either," Zack told him firmly. When Sephiroth didn't react, Zack tightened his grip on his shoulder. "Sephiroth, you aren't a monster," he repeated, willing his friend to believe it, _needing_ –Angeal– him to believe it.

"I'm not human What else could I be?" Sephiroth asked in that terrifying dead voice as he averted lifeless eyes away from Zack and stared blankly towards a wall instead.

"You could be a chocobo," Zack blurted as his mind desperately raced on what to do, what he had to say to prevent Angeal from happening again. Words continued to fall from his lips almost without him noticing that they did. "Or a cat, or a mog, or a flower. Just because part of you isn't human doesn't mean that you're a monster. And hey, your mom was human and that's more than enough to qualify as a human yourself." Zack forced himself to stop blabbering because what if he said the _wrong_ thing, what if he made Sephiroth break like Angeal–

Sephiroth still didn't react to his words in any way, just kept staring towards the wall with unseeing eyes. Think, Fair, _think_. What could he say to snap Sephiroth out of this terrifying lack of life? Sephiroth clearly wouldn't listen to any assurances that he wasn't a monster, so what could Zack say to get his mind off of that absurd notion? What did he need to do to prevent Angeal–

The answer arrived in a brilliant stroke of inspiration. Zack turned his gaze towards Vincent. Sephiroth's dad was, of course, still attempting to drill holes into his son's head with the force of his stare.

"What was Sephiroth's mom like?" Zack asked. And did a mental fist pump as Sephiroth immediately snapped brightly glowing eyes towards his dad, the sense of lifeless resignation replaced by a predator on the hunt. Anything was better than that terrifying lack of life.

Vincent, of course, kept silent, red eyes flashing with too many things to name. So Zack opened his mouth to repeat himself, and sure enough, Vincent started talking.

"Lucrecia was..." Vincent closed his eyes, but thankfully, he didn't fall silent. "She was arrogant, always convinced she was in the right. Stubborn to a fault. So passionate and so ridiculously quick tempered," Vincent said in a voice possessing the barest of trembles, so faint it was more felt than heard. Vincent opened his eyes, and this time he was the one who gazed forward unseeingly.

Sephiroth kept looking at his dad like a dragon looked at its next meal.

"Responsible. When she made a mistake, she owned up to it." Red eyes focussed on Sephiroth's hungry ones, and Vincent's lips twitched with what Zack swore was the shadow of a possible smile. "Of course, that first required her to admit she'd even made a mistake at all."

Vincent fell silent, and closed his eyes again.

"She was rude and selfish. Aside from a handful of people, she didn't care in the slightest what others thought of her, and acted exactly how she felt like doing. She was an awful liar, had the impulse control of a teenager, made decisions based on nothing but how she felt, was completely oblivious to her surroundings, was so playful when she wasn't being annoyed with something, and when she laughed–" Vincent cut himself off as pure heartbreak broke through, before he quickly regained a mockery of composure and returned to watching Sephiroth. He didn't say anything more.

Zack couldn't help the brief urge to hug all that sorrow away, because the way Vincent talked about Lucrecia...

How would Zack feel if this had happened to Aerith?

"What happened to her?" Sephiroth demanded, broken in a different way from before. Zack wasn't sure wether this was an improvement to the previous sense of a predator stalking his prey, but Sephiroth didn't become lifeless again. That was something, at least.

"...I don't know," Vincent answered in a carefully controlled voice. "When we realized what Hojo was doing, we tried to flee. We failed, and I was shot. When I woke up again, more than half a year had passed and the mansion was abandoned. I–" Vincent closed his eyes, his illusion of composure completely gone, anguish and guilt visible in his every line. "I looked for any sign of what happened, and discovered evidence stating that the _experiment_ ," The word was filled with so much venom that Zack was honestly surprised the thing didn't make another appearance. "had failed and that– that you both had died."

Vincent opened red eyes that seemed to be lit from within.

"But you're alive. The evidence was false. I will find out what happened to her as well." It was a statement of fact, a declaration of what was going to happen, no matter what.

Sephiroth looked wild and desperate, his breathing becoming too shallow, on the verge of breaking like Angeal–

"We'll help," Zack said as he dug his fingers into Sephiroth's shoulder, and held his friend's gaze as too bright eyes snapped to meet his own. "We're going to find out what happened to your mom, Sephiroth," he promised.

Sephiroth's eyes brightened even further, his desperation replaced by a single minded focus, the sense of a predator on the hunt overwhelming all else.

" _Yes_ ," Sephiroth breathed out in a voice that made goosebumps break out all over. Zack ignored it and gave a fierce grin back instead, knew he was showing a little too many teeth himself and not caring in the slightest.

They needed to find out what had happened to Sephiroth's mom. Not because it was the right thing to do, though of course that was important as well, and Zack would've helped for that reason alone. But Zack felt like Sephiroth wouldn't be able to return to normal until he knew what had happened to his mom. What kind of friend would he be if he abandoned Sephiroth when he needed him the most?

Zack wouldn't be able to live with failing him as he had Angeal.

Of course, even aside from Sephiroth's own unstable state of mind, there was also the fact that Sephiroth and his dad clearly had issues. On both sides, it hadn't escaped Zack's notice that Vincent hadn't called Sephiroth his son in a direct way even once. However, those issues could be resolved later. Sephiroth's dad was alive and here, after all.

Now they just need to find out what had happened to Sephiroth's mom.

* * *

**Past**

Lucrecia entered the last variables into her terminal, started up the calculations, and leaned back in her chair. She let out a deep sigh as and rubbed her eyes. Now she just needed to wait.

Lucrecia yawned, not bothering to cover up the gesture. It wasn't like anyone could see, this was her private lab. No one came here, barring emergencies. It was one of the unspoken rules that had developed by now.

The mansion and grounds had seemed huge in the beginning, but after living here for four months, it was starting to feel suffocating. Sure, there were the recreation rooms, fitness hall, cafeteria, and a similar places, because while fucking ShinRa was many things, modest hadn't ever been one of them. However, all of those places were communal, and sometimes people just needed to be alone. So every person had created their own places to retreat to. For the scientists, these included their private labs.

Of course, everyone's bedroom was strictly off-limits as well, unless given explicit invitation. But it was nice to have other spaces to retreat to.

Lucrecia slouched more comfortably down her chair as she closed her eyes. Four months already. Time really did fly.

Time in which Lucrecia hadn't come one bit closer to figuring out how to sabotage the fucking JENOVA Project.

The problem with sabotaging the fucking JENOVA Project, was that there was nothing to sabotage. Not yet, they were still busy with figuring out how Jenova even worked.

Unfortunately, everyone was still convinced that the unholy abomination was a Cetra, and currently, Lucrecia didn't have the kind of data needed to even begin refuting that. The dissimilarity compared to previous samples of Cetra tissue could more than easily be explained by Jenova's sheer "intactness". Previously found Cetra tissue was the volume of a small fingertip at most.

Not to mention that Mako contamination did _very_ strange things to anything organic, and there existed no untainted Cetra samples. It wasn't like there was another naturally occurring way besides crystallization to prevent dead tissue from eventually dissolving into the Lifestream.

Excuse her, she meant "the fission induced by a prolonged lack of resonance stimulation". Not dissolving into the lifeblood of the Planet. Of course not.

Fucking ShinRa.

Lucrecia sighed and brought fiddled with the bracelet holding her Barrier Materia, to enjoy the indescribable sense of contained protection as it brushed against her mind.

That was a problem for another day, the fucking JENOVA Project was a much more pressing issue.

Except it also wasn't. Human experimentation, the necessary basis for creating any kind of super soldier, was a long time off. Not just another four months, but actual years away. So currently, it would be pointless for Lucrecia to falsify results, or whatever. Not only would the others soon catch it, but it would get her kicked off the project faster than she could say Gaia. Or disposed of discreetly.

Fucking ShinRa.

Yet while part of Lucrecia was tempted to do just that, so tempted to jump at even the slightest chance of getting away from the fucking JENOVA Project, no matter the potential dangers of doing so... she couldn't do it. If she did, she'd be taking the easy way out. Be content with a token effort at stopping Sephiroth's creation just so she could tell herself that she'd tried.

Except she wouldn't have tried. She'd just be pretending she had.

That pretense wasn't something Lucrecia would be able to live with. She _couldn't_ sit by and let this happen, not when she had the option to prevent it. No matter the part of her that pointed out the unbelievably terrifying potential consequences of messing with the timeline as she was planning to do. The part that pointed out that without Sephiroth, there would be no Cloud Strife and his companions either. Pointed out that without Sephiroth and Cloud Strife, there was no guarantee that those damn Reactors would be destroyed in time.

There was no guarantee that Chaos wouldn't awaken.

Bad memory or not, there was no way Lucrecia would've ever been able to forget if Chaos had been in the game. Not after seeing it with her own eyes. If it had been in the game, she would've remembered.

She wouldn't have been able not to.

Even before Chaos, however, those potential consequences were the biggest reason for why she'd long ago decided not to interfere with what she knew would happen. While the memories of the plot she'd written down were unbelievably horrifying when applied to real life, the game did have a happy end. As in, the Planet survived.

The Planet surviving was a very happy end.

Lucrecia had realized almost as soon as she'd written everything down just how amazing that ending was, how much of it relied on sheer chance. She'd also realized what an impossible close call Gaia had already had gotten through.

There was a reason Lucrecia thought of Jenova as the unholy abomination from outer space. Though she made sure to never refer to it like that out loud, of course.

Yet even aside from the unholy abomination itself and the "son" it would have, there were still those damn Reactors draining the Lifestream.

There was still Chaos. Though according to her calculations, depending on how soon and how many Reactors were built, the Planet had another three centuries at best before Chaos awakened, five decades at the absolute worst.

Honestly, Lucrecia was frightened out of her mind by her decision to mess with the timeline. And if she hadn't been here in particular, if she hadn't been forced to work on the fucking JENOVA Project itself, Lucrecia would've happily continued living her life without any intention of messing with the plot.

Unfortunately, Lucrecia was here instead of home. She wasn't stuffing knowledge into the heads of bratty teenagers, wasn't visiting aunt Des and suffering her aunt's constant matchmaking attempts. Wasn't spending her time safely poking at one of the most fundamental expressions of magic there was.

Well, she supposed that last wasn't true. While Chaos and Jenova couldn't be more different from a scientific point of view, both were as magical as possible, in their own unique ways. Both were also as terrifying as possible. Still, it wasn't the same. Chaos was a natural part of the Lifestream. Jenova was an unholy abomination from outer space.

Very much not the same thing.

Lucrecia sighed. The fucking JENOVA Project. Just... the fucking JENOVA Project.

She really wished that Doctor Faremis hadn't wanted to recruit her. No matter that he thought she was a highly competent Bio-Materialist.

A highly competent Materialist. _Doctor Faremis_ thought she was a highly competent Bio-Materialist. That wasn't something Lucrecia would ever not be flattered by. Even living together with the man for months hadn't lessened her admittedly teen-like idolization of him. If anything, it had made it worse, because Doctor Faremis was not only more intelligent than she'd expected, which was really saying something, he was also one of the most likable people Lucrecia had ever met.

She still wished he hadn't wanted to recruit her.

It was so easy to stay out of the plot when she wasn't being confronted by it, so easy to decide to let all the destruction happen that she knew would come. Except it was one thing to let it all happen when she hadn't had the faintest idea on how to go about changing anything anyway, it was another thing entirely when she was right in the middle of the fucking JENOVA Project itself. When the decision not to interfere with the future had changed from living her life as she pleased, to actively helping bring about a mass murderer's existence.

Lucrecia couldn't carry that responsibility, couldn't carry all that death. Not because she was a good person, she was well aware that she was incredibly selfish. As evidenced by her living her life _exactly_ how she damn well felt like doing.

Yet it was that very selfishness that didn't allow her to sit by and do nothing. The weight of Grimoire's death alone still became too much to bear at times, no matter how much time passed.

Grimoire's death was the only thing she truly regretted about this life, the only thing she would give almost anything to change. Not because he was dead, as cold as that might sound, Lucrecia would've easily been able to live with that.

Death was sudden, unexpected. It never let you prepare for it, it was unavoidable. Lucrecia knew that better than anyone. It was why, even though she missed her parents so much, Lucrecia didn't feel true regret over their passing. She felt grief and pain over their absence, a fierce desire to talk to them, to have them back with her. But she didn't regret that they'd died. Couldn't, death was a natural part of life. Lucrecia loved life.

She'd taken away Grimoire's.

She let out a deep sigh as she tried to force her tired, and thus unpleasantly wandering mind, towards something else. The past couldn't be changed.

She didn't have the right to feel bad when it was Grimoire who'd died.

Yet it was because of Grimoire's death that Lucrecia knew that if she didn't even try to sabotage the fucking JENOVA Project, she wouldn't be able to live with herself. Though she wouldn't try to sabotage it until she'd figured out a way to do it in such a way that the project couldn't ever be revived again, because Lucrecia was well aware that she only had one real shot at this. Which was also why she didn't just mess around with things in the hope that she'd get lucky, that would definitely lead to fucking ShinRa catching her, and that would mean "game over". Irony of ironies, the one most likely to catch her was Grimoire's son himself.

While Vincent Valentine would one day join Cloud Strife and his companions, right now he was as fucking ShinRa as could be. As evidenced by Vincent Valentine being a damn Turk of all things. Lucrecia honestly couldn't recall whether he'd been one in the game, but even if he had been, she still couldn't quite wrap her mind around it, even after all these months.

Grimoire's son was a damn _Turk_.

Fucking ShinRa.

But those were thoughts for later. For now, Lucrecia was doing exactly what fucking ShinRa had hired her for.

And even though Jenova was an unholy abomination from outer space that wasn't just mind numbingly terrifying in concept, but also _unbelievably_ disgusting to see in real life... Lucrecia was forced to admit that she didn't care about that in the slightest when she was working.

It was almost funny, while scientifically speaking Chaos and Jenova couldn't be more different, they were eerily similar in other ways. Not in the least because both were the apocalypse given form. Different versions, of course, but both had the capacity to end all life on the Planet. Yet the similarity went deeper than that. In their own ways, both were pure paradoxes, completely ignoring– well, the unholy abomination flipped the finger to pretty much everything Lucrecia had thought she'd known about biology. Chaos on the other hand, liked to spit on the fundamental laws governing matter.

That was without getting into how both reacted to any form of Materia.

Both Chaos and Jenova also invoked purely physical reactions on sight, and repeated exposure only lessened those reactions slightly. For Chaos, it was a sense of animalistic terror. For Jenova, it was a sickening sense of disgust.

And just like with Chaos, just like how when adding in all that and more...

Lucrecia thought that Jenova was fucking _amazing_. Sweet Gaia, its cells absorbed Mako!

Its cells. Absorbed. _Mako_.

Though her awe for Jenova only took over completely when she was working. The rest of the time, her awe was overshadowed by pure terror. Not in the least because _its cells absorbed Mako_.

Lucrecia now had an inkling of how the unholy abomination could've been capable of consuming all life on the Planet. How it could've been capable of consuming the Lifestream itself.

That was the thing about living on Gaia, it might've been just a game in her previous life, but it wasn't anymore. It never had been. This was a real world full of real people. A real world full of real history.

A history that didn't even cover two thousand years. There literally wasn't a settlement on Gaia that could trace their origin back further. All over the Planet were remains– fractions of remains, really, of ancient cities and cultures. Both human and Cetra created. Yet every one of those remains was an island with no connection to anything beyond itself.

A three thousand year old human made temple buried deep beneath the earth in the Northern Continent. Five thousand years old remnants of Cetra created pillars underneath the ocean near the shore of Costa Del Sol. Twelve thousand year old rock paintings found deep within the Wutai rainforests. Snapshots frozen in time with no explanation as to how it had happened.

The truth was that everyone on Gaia knew some kind of calamity had befallen the entire Planet in the recent past. Yet no one knew what had happened, the destruction had been far too catastrophic.

The destruction caused by Jenova's arrival. By its war with the Cetra.

After Lucrecia had finally understood where she was, Jenova became what frightened her the most. Even more than Sephiroth in many ways. Unlike everyone else on the Planet, Lucrecia did know what had happened. She knew that the calamity was Jenova arriving on Gaia.

She knew that the Cetra had fought Jenova to the point of extinction in order to save all life on the Planet.

Lucrecia remembered how when she'd played the game, she'd thought that Jenova being an alien that could consume all life on a planet was pretty cool. It wasn't.

It was _terrifying_.

Jenova wasn't some pixels on a screen, wasn't another boss that needed to be defeated. Jenova was _an alien that could consume all life on a planet_. On _this_ Planet.

Lucrecia's mind boggled just thinking about it. She had genuine difficulties comprehending the sheer amount of energy that would require at the very least. She could do the math of course, but putting the numbers into perspective...

It made her wonder how the Cetra had ever managed to defeat the unholy abomination in the first place. While technically speaking there was no hard data to support her conclusion, her own calculations had made Lucrecia convinced that the unholy abomination they called Jenova was but a shadow of what it had once been. It had to be, what she and the others were studying didn't seem capable in the slightest of consuming all life on the Planet. It didn't seem capable of driving the Cetra to extinction either.

This was a world with magic. A world where Summons existed, weapons of mass destruction on the same level as the very worst of natural disasters. There was evidence that those Summons had existed long before Jenova's arrival, stylized images of them occasionally found across the islands of lost history. This was a world where humans were capable of dealing _astonishing_ damage with that magic, the wars fought in known history made that abundantly clear. It was also abundantly clear that the Cetra had been able to manipulate magic on a level humans were centuries away from at best. As evidenced, among other things, by Cetra ruins that incorporated sculpted Materia.

Let her repeat that. Cetra had been able to _sculpt_ Materia.

Even with only the barest fragments of their existence remaining, it couldn't be more clear that the Cetra had possessed a mastery of magic humans could only dream of.

The war with Jenova had driven them to extinction.

The war had ended with the Cetra crystallizing Jenova.

And Lucrecia couldn't help but wonder why. Why hadn't they destroyed it? The unholy abomination's cells, while _unbelievably_ resilient, were still capable of being destroyed. So why hadn't the Cetra done that? Aerith was part Cetra, which meant that there must've been some who'd survived the war. Why hadn't those Cetra blasted Jenova with magic? Had Summons destroy it? Thrown it into a volcano?

No wait, the unholy abomination would survive being thrown into a volcano. But there were still other options, because magic was awe and terror inspiring like that. So why hadn't the Cetra done any of it?

Why, of all that Jenova must've been when it first arrived, had the Cetra crystallized this part?

Lucrecia groaned. It was far too late for this kind of heavy thinking. Especially because all the possible answers she could think of were either terrifying or horrifying. Or both. The problem was finding the energy to push her thoughts to something less terrifying. Like fucking ShinRa.

Except fucking ShinRa was in control of the fucking JENOVA Project, which made fucking ShinRa as terrifying as the unholy abomination itself.

Fucking ShinRa.

Alright, fine, it was Doctor Faremis who'd started the project, but not only was he a closet believer of the Lifestream, he genuinely believed that Jenova was a Cetra.

Except Jenova wasn't a Cetra, it was an unholy abomination from outer space that was potentially capable of ending all life on the Planet. And it was in the hands of fucking ShinRa. And Lucrecia was studying it in name of fucking ShinRa.

This was the CHAOS Project all over again. Though at least she'd gotten full possession of Chaos after Grimoire's death. Yet even when she'd legally had sole ownership of Chaos from the very moment Grimoire passed away, thanks to his iron clad will, she'd still needed to wait an agonizing _seven months_ before fucking ShinRa had returned _their failed experiment_.

Fucking ShinRa.

Lucrecia had never understood why Grimoire had gotten involved with them in the first place, especially because he'd been such an ardent believer of the Lifestream. Theoretically she understood, of course, Grimoire had needed funding, and at the time fucking ShinRa had been his best bet. Grimoire might've found the Crystal Cave on his own and claimed Chaos as his personal possession, but in order to research it, he'd needed more sophisticated equipment than he'd been able to afford. Lucrecia understood that problem very well.

That was the downside of being a mad scientist who didn't work for a big name, it was pinching pennies to make sure she was able to buy all the basic necessities for her lab. However, Lucrecia would rather have a very modest private lab than work for anyone other than herself, and _especially_ than to work for fucking ShinRa.

Except now she was working for them. Again.

Fucking ShinRa.

Her detest of fucking ShinRa and all it stood for wasn't caused by what had happened with the CHAOS Project, though that had been what had turned it into true hatred. She'd already despised fucking ShinRa long before that, though.

Lucrecia had decided to live this second life without any regrets practically as soon as she'd realized she'd been reborn. So she hadn't tried to hide her intelligence, had skipped grade after grade in her desperate desire to understand how the fuck it was possible for magic to actually exist. She'd been thirteen years old when she'd started college, and she'd thrown herself into it with a passion, drowning herself in as many courses as she could.

College had been a wonderful experience she wouldn't trade for almost anything. She'd also studied there during the exact period in time fucking ShinRa had started its meteoric rise and caused a scientific revolution. Both a consequence of their first Mako Reactor and the artificial Mako made available for study.

While identical in almost every way, natural Mako was erratic and unpredictable in a way artificial Mako wasn't. Oh, artificial Mako seemed erratic and unpredictable, but every behavior it displayed could be reproduced in controlled environments. Natural Mako, on the other hand, even when repeating the exact same conditions with the exact same sample, could still behave subtly different each and every time.

Natural Mako was alive in a way artificial Mako wasn't.

Of course, it wasn't the scientific revolution which had made Lucrecia despise everything ShinRa with a passion, nor was it the fact that this deeper understanding of magic was only possible because of those damn Reactors.

No, her revilement had grown during the years she'd been in college, when she'd seen how the teachers that cautioned about the potential dangers of the Reactors began being fired or quietly resigning. She'd seen how scientists publicly believing in the concept of the Lifestream started becoming shunned, or even disappeared. Saw how every paper that even implied Mako Reactors could be harmful in any way, was utterly destroyed under the guise of academic review. Saw how people who loudly proclaimed the Reactors were the best thing to ever happen, began rising to more and more influential positions.

Lucrecia had begun despising the ShinRa Electric Power Company with all her heart when she'd realized _exactly_ how it would one day become the only power on the Planet that mattered. Then the CHAOS Project happened, and Grimoire's death had been labeled _a failed experiment_.

Lucrecia hated fucking ShinRa.

A loud beep made her startle and open her eyes. The results were in, and Lucrecia quickly leaned forward and went over them.

She was right, it was caused by a closed feedback.

Lucrecia let out a deep sigh as a wave of exhaustion abruptly pressed down on her. She hadn't wanted to quit until she'd figured this out, but now that she had, it seemed as though her brain had decided it was officially done with everything. Given the hour, that wasn't surprising.

Lucrecia leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes again. Now she only needed to clean up the last of her things, then she could finally go sleep.

Except this required her to get up, and Lucrecia honestly wasn't sure if she still had enough energy for that. On the other hand, she'd have to get up no matter what. Not only because she had to clean up, but because she needed to walk towards her bedroom. Which contained her bed. Which she needed to reach in order to sleep.

The notion of falling asleep right here was incredibly tempting though. No matter that she knew her back would punish her for it in the morning.

Lucrecia kept her eyes closed, just a moment longer. Then, in a humongous display of willpower, she straightened and started gathering her scattered papers. She turned her head to the side, searching for the file she'd placed there– she screamed, one hand coming up to clutch at her racing heart as she whirled her chair around towards the entrance of her lab.

Vincent Valentine looked back at her from the open doorway, as _infuriatingly_ inscrutable as always.

"You– Stop doing that!" Lucrecia yelled with her heart still stuck in her throat.

"My apologies, I didn't intent to startle you," Vincent Valentine returned in that ever so polite voice that gave no hint as to what he was feeling. Lucrecia glared, annoyance at an all time high. She so wasn't in the mood for this. This being Vincent Valentine apologizing for "accidentally" sneaking up on her, the lying asshole.

When Lucrecia wasn't around other people, Vincent Valentine _always_ sneaked up on her.

Always.

"If it wasn't your intention, than _make some fucking noise_ ," she bit back, completely fed up. She was tired, desperately wanted to sleep, and Vincent Valentine's cat-like tendencies made her want to strangle him with a bell.

"I fear it's a force of habit," Vincent Valentine said in another aggravatingly polite voice. Lucrecia raised a derisive brow in return.

"And startling me is just a happy side effect?" she returned in her most sarcastic voice. Vincent Valentine's annoyingly inscrutable expression never even twitched.

Lucrecia sighed and rubbed her eyes, slumping down her chair as the adrenaline faded and her exhaustion returned.

"What are you even doing here?" she asked when it became clear Vincent Valentine wasn't going to say anything further. This was her private lab after all, not one of the communal ones. He had no business scaring the crap out of her in here. In fact, how long had he even been standing there? Damn Turk.

This right here was why Lucrecia made sure to never talk about her plans for sabotage out loud.

"You're the last person awake," Vincent Valentine said as though it was an actual answer.

"Aside from yourself, of course," she retorted. Honestly, Vincent Valentine _never_ seemed to sleep. If he wasn't inside his office, he was skulking around the mansion like a ghost, popping out of nowhere when least expected.

Vincent Valentine didn't react. Of course he didn't. Lucrecia rolled her eyes, before she let out a sigh and tilted back her head.

She desperately wanted to go sleep.

"Well, if you're going to be bothering me anyway, you can help tidy up," she said, figuring she might as well take advantage of the extra hands. Even if they were Vincent Valentine's, that's how tired she was. She didn't even have the energy to ignore him like usual.

"That isn't part of my job," Vincent Valentine returned in that annoyingly polite voice.

"Should've thought of that before you came to bother me," she snapped as she felt a slight headache break through. "Now gather the instruments on that table, put them on that surgical tray and wash them. Disinfect the table after that, the product and towels are over there. And put on some gloves, I don't want you contaminating anything. They're over there," she ordered as she pointed everything out.

Vincent Valentine didn't move. Lucrecia scowled as her temper flared.

"Are you waiting for a written invitation? Move it, the sooner this is done, the sooner I can go sleep," she ordered as she reached for the file from before and continued her own tidying up while keeping Vincent Valentine within her peripheral vision.

Vincent Valentine looked towards her with haunting eyes a moment longer, impossible to determine what he was thinking. He inclined his head and moved towards the table.

Lucrecia smiled victoriously, happy at being able to leave that little sooner. No matter that it was because of Vincent Valentine helping her.

She finished gathering and ordering her papers, put the last of her pens away, got up, and started returning the final things scattered around her lab to their rightful place. She only glanced towards Vincent Valentine once, as he placed the surgical tray down by the sink and opened the tab.

Silence fell. Lucrecia fought to keep her eyes open as she continued tidying up her lab.

"So is it standard procedure to come bother the last one awake?" she eventually asked, more to distract herself from her own exhaustion and slight headache than any expectation of an answer.

"It's standard procedure to monitor all participants on this project," Vincent Valentine said in another not-answer. Lucrecia's lips quirked as she placed the vials back on the shelf in front of her, inadvertently amused.

"In other words, yes it is," she retorted.

Vincent Valentine didn't reply. Lucrecia's faint amusement rose.

Really, as long as she wasn't looking at Vincent Valentine and his haunting eyes, his presence was a lot easier to bear.

"So what's your opinion on this project?" she asked absently, most of her mind on her bed already.

"That's classified."

Lucrecia froze. She blinked in confusion. Turned around and watched Vincent Valentine with suspicion as he finished cleaning the last of her instruments.

His annoyingly polite voice had sounded almost... dry?

"But you can at least tell me what you think of the food, right?" she prodded, attempting to determine whether it had been her sleep deprived mind playing tricks on her.

Vincent Valentine didn't even look towards her as he picked up the disinfectant and moved towards the table. He didn't answer either.

Lucrecia gave him a final suspicious look, before she turned around again and continued her own work.

"You can't even tell me what you think of the food? F– ShinRa really takes paranoia to a whole new level," she said, half to distract herself, half because she was still wondering if that flash of actual humanity had been her imagination.

Vincent Valentine didn't reply.

It had been her imagination. Definitely. Her mind was so tired it was playing tricks on her.

Placing the last of the chemicals back in their containment unit, Lucrecia sighed deeply and allowed herself a moment to close her eyes.

She could _finally_ go sleep.

She walked over to the trashcan while pulling off her gloves, not giving Vincent Valentine more than a quick glance as he continued wiping down the table.

"Thanks for the help," she said with her back towards him as she threw her gloves down the bin, truly meaning it. "Turks are good for cleaning things up at least," her treacherous mouth continued. Lucrecia grimaced.

This right here was why she couldn't have nice things. Not that she minded letting others know the sheer depth with which she loathed fucking ShinRa and all it entailed, but in this particular case, Lucrecia hadn't wanted to sound mocking. Not when Vincent Valentine was helping her when he didn't need to do so.

Lucrecia was about to force herself to apologize when Vincent Valentine spoke.

"The Department of Administrative Research does have experience with cleaning things up."

Lucrecia immediately spun around, her previous suspicion back with a vengeance.

Vincent Valentine had almost sounded maybe dry again.

"That is incredibly disturbing to hear, I hope you're aware of this," she told him, all her focus on Vincent Valentine's inscrutable everything as he gathered the dirty towel and the disinfectant. He put everything back in the correct place. He didn't speak.

Had she imagined it?

Again?

...Was he messing with her?

Then Vincent Valentine started walking towards the trashcan, and Lucrecia immediately took a few steps away from it herself. She might be too tired, and now also too curious to ignore Vincent Valentine's existence like usual, but that didn't mean she wanted to be close to him.

Closer, at least.

"My apologies for disturbing you," Vincent Valentine said, the maybe might've possibly been dryness from before completely gone.

"Because of course that wasn't your intention," she retorted sarcastically as Vincent Valentine threw his own disposable gloves into the trash as well.

"Of course not," he responded in another annoyingly polite voice, impossible to determine whether he was being serious or not. Or if he was anything really.

Lucrecia rolled her eyes, curiosity replaced by irritation. Screw this, she was out of here.

"Look, I'm tired and want to go to bed. So thanks for the help, but get out of my lab. Now," she ordered as she gave Vincent Valentine a hard look. Yet as he looked back with haunting eyes, Lucrecia couldn't help but avert her own to the side.

Vincent Valentine didn't speak, just kept staring at her with his father's eyes. Lucrecia crossed her arms and shifted her weight, all of a sudden incredibly uncomfortable with his presence. In a way she was used to, this was how she always felt when she wasn't being weighed down by exhaustion.

Given the circumstances, she figured it couldn't hurt to be a little polite.

"Please?" Lucrecia deeply disliked the tentative way that came out, and felt a scowl grow because of it.

Vincent Valentine kept staring at her a moment longer, before he inclined his head and moved towards the door. Lucrecia let out a sigh of relief, a weight falling from her shoulders at the knowledge she wouldn't have to be near him any longer. It also made her exhaustion press down on her even harder, and a huge yawn broke free. Lucrecia swore she could feel her jaw crack as she brought up a hand to cover the gesture.

Her brain had officially given up for the night. Morning. Whatever.

She turned off the lights and followed Vincent Valentine out of her lab, feeling like a zombie. She locked the door, turned around, and was unable to stop her gaze from being drawn towards Vincent Valentine. Who simply looked back at her with those haunting eyes. Lucrecia grimaced and brought up a hand to rub her own tired ones.

"I meant it. Thanks for helping," she told him sincerely as she lowered her hand. She wanted him to know she appreciated it.

"How could I refuse when you asked so nicely."

Lucrecia stared. Had he just...

He had.

Vincent Valentine had told a joke.

Lucrecia burst out laughing, completely caught off guard and hysterically amused, unable to stop laughing because _Vincent Valentine had told a joke_.

She felt tears rise from her sheer mirth, had to close her eyes as she continued laughing like mad. She only opened them again when she'd felt like she'd gotten her laughter under control, yet when she did, she immediately had to avert her gaze and bite down on her lip, choking on nothing as wild cackles tried to break free once more.

Vincent Valentine's unreadable everything made his previous joke – _joke!_ – even funnier. In a way that was ridiculous, it hadn't even been that funny, and definitely not something worth bursting into hysterical laughter for.

But _Vincent Valentine_ had told a _joke_.

A loud snort escaped her.

Lucrecia was going to blame her reaction on a combination of the sheer unexpectedness of Vincent Valentine telling a joke and her own exhaustion.

She managed to gain control over the laughter that still wanted to break free, and lifted her head to see Vincent Valentine gaze set in a still perfectly composed expression. The sight made a few giggles escaped her before she could help it.

"Careful, Mister Valentine, your humanity is showing," she teased, still so incredibly amused.

Lucrecia swore she saw Vincent Valentine's lips twitch. Whether with humor, annoyance, or something else entirely, was impossible to determine, though. He didn't reply.

Lucrecia's grin grew, more comfortable with his presence than she'd ever been, before she felt a huge yawn broke free, and she covered up the movement with a hand as another wave of pure tiredness dampened the intensity of her amusement.

Time for bed.

"Goodnight, Mister Valentine," she told him as she felt her lips quirk in a small smile.

"Goodnight, Doctor Crescent," he replied in his polite voice, expression once more perfectly composed.

Lucrecia's smile grew, before she turned around and started the walk towards her room, leaving Vincent Valentine behind. After a few steps, she looked back over her shoulder and saw him walk away in the opposite direction. She shook her head and returned her gaze forward.

Tomorrow, she'd return to utterly ignoring Vincent Valentine's existence, Lucrecia knew herself well enough for that. Without her exhaustion, she never would've been able to feel as comfortable with his presence as she had just now. In fact, she wouldn't even have tried to start a conversation in the first place.

Still, it was nice to know for certain Grimoire's son did have actual emotions, no matter that she wasn't able to figure out what they were. By now, Lucrecia had been half convinced he was a robot.

She was glad Vincent Valentine had turned out to be human after all.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Present**

H͇̩̘͇͖e͕̰̩͓͎ kept his f͓̬͇̤̮o͉͙͕̯̗c̫̝̪͚͔u̱̭͔ͅs̰͓̩̭̱ on– on V̦̝̗͓i͓̫ͅn̥̱̰c̖͓̹e̜̼n̟̺̤͈t̻̭̠ ̫̠̹̼V̙̟̰̳a̙̺̼l͙̥e̳̘̝ͅn̰̣t̖̰̰i̮͇̟̯n̤̳̙e̥̳͔.

Sephiroth could not t͙̭̭h̘̻͉i͔͍̼n͙ͅk̬̜͖ of the man as h̜̰̮i̥͈̝̱s̳̮̦– not when V̦͎͔̳i̗͔ṇ̜c̲̹̩e̺n͍͕̬͙t͉͕̹̜ ̰͍͙͇V̦̲͍̜a͖͓̲̪͖l͎̜e̯̬n̦̞̜̬̼t̙ͅi͓̤͓̦n̦̠̬̖͙e̻̱̤̹ had a̩̖̻̜b̟̭̪a̮̞̫n̜̪̺d͎̠̜͖o̰̻̞n̳͓͙n̰̰̫͕e̲̬̼̗͔d̤̺̠͕– his mother.

Sephiroth once more tried to suppress his overwhelming r̻̳͎a̹͉̙g̻͕e̻̪̣. It was near impossible to do so, to not let the f̬̩̰̬u̺̗̙r̰̦̲̖y͔̬͎ take over, to cause as much pain as h̬̪̗̞̳e͙̲̠̙̳̩ was f̯̠̪̥e̟͉̺e̬̪̬̻l̮̗̗i͙͎̟n͉̣̝̝g̮̘͇.

Because it h̜̱̞͇ͅu͔͔ͅr̰̭̝t̹̭͇. It h̩͖̮u͖̟̼r̘̫̺̹t͚̟̲ so much, his m̬̖̞i̩̭̳ṇ̤͔d̜̬̘ unable to move on from the knowledge that V̯̪̺i͓̹͙n͈̣̺ͅc̖̗̝e̤̥͚n̫͙̝̬t͍̼ ̬̭̖̝V̲̞̳a͔̰̥̩l͕e͎̰̣͎n̮͖ti͍̱͍̝n͈e̗͉͎ had a͎̣͖̣b̟̝͈ͅa͖̻͇n̦̭̫̜ḍ͙̞o̗̪n̲̠̲̱͈n̜̖̯e̳̜͇ͅd̼͍͖̤– his mother. The knowledge that V̭͉̪͕i̙͕͖̯n̰͍̺c̖̗̪͔e̺͉̤n͈͕̤t͕̝ ͖͚̟̤V̘̬̗ͅạ̫͚̘l͙e̟̣n̞͓̺ti̭͕̳n̳̙͚̠e͈ had been alive while h̳͚͉̞e̘͎̩̻ ̤͖̜w̻̱̻a̬̩̮s̩̺̯̱ ͚̙͙͔ **a͖̭͕l͉̯͇o̟͓̬n̟̟̗e̳͕** –

"Whew, now that's what I call a meal. Cloud, you rock," Zack told the infantry soldier with a grin.

Sephiroth was aware that Zack was attempting to act as though nothing was wrong in order to distract h̜̘͖i̺͎̟m̝͓͙. Part of Sephiroth was truly grateful for that, grateful for Zack's concern. A larger part of h͙̺̲i͔͖̻m͉̪͉ wanted to punch the SOLDIER through the wall in order to make him s̹̱̝ͅh̥͚̰͎u̮͙͉t̥̙̱ͅ ̭̘̬u͖͖̻p͇͙ and ḻ̘̜̘e͍̬͍a̫̬͍v̗͉̮͎e͚̞͍ ̻̺̘͈h̼̜͉i̖̖̲̜m̟͈̘ ͉̙̟̻ **a̻̳ḽ̪̝o̯̠̩͓n͉̼̘̰e̞͎ͅ** –

But what truly frightened Sephiroth, what made h̝͇̙͉i̮̱̖̠ͅm͓͕̖ afraid of h̩̪͓i̩̰̝m̠̹̼̟self in a way h̺̜̯͕e̹͔͉ had never been before, were the moments where h͎̰̘̮̗e͔̞̣̩... did not r̖͇̘̗̝e̤͖͕͎c̝͔̪̫o̗̰̘̘g̬̺̜n̜̲̗̫ͅi͙̘z̠͓͎̻e͕̟͓ Zack.

Zack Fair. Angeal's puppy. The only person since Angeal and– the only one Sephiroth would tentatively dare to call a friend.

There were moments h̗̪̼͎e͓̯̥͍ didn't r̯͓̗̦e̳̯͈̜̭c̪̟͙̻o͎̠̤̤̻g̟͚͉n͈̻͉̳̭i̘̩͙̟z̗͎̟e̥̗̺ who Zack was.

Sephiroth wondered what was wrong with h̤͈͕̳i͉̮͈ͅm̤̥̙ͅ, why it was so hard to t͎̪͉h̟̣̳i̭͈n̲̭̫k̳̹͔. Why he could not stop feeling this f̬̖̞͍̯u͉̟̗̺r̖̞̫̟̱y͙͖̘ͅ, the u͍̭̫͙̙r͕̖̻g͙͖̠͔e͇̹̣̟ to ḏ̹̠̲̥̗e̩͔͎s̝̙͓̱t̥̠͉͕̣r̩͖̻̗o̮͚͚y͈̟̲̤ and to – **f͍̼̰̬̫̱e̮̼̩̹̯e͇̥͓̠͎d͚̖̺͖̼** – b͚͍͕̠̠ụ͕̳͇̜r͙̳͙n̬͙͉͍ ̜̦̻̬d̟̗͖̥͉o͙̯͍ͅw̤̰̱̟ͅn͚͎̪̠ͅ ̟͎̯t̘̟h̠̩͚̳̠̠e̖̠̟̖̪ ̯̗̲̪̪ͅP̞͈̣͖̰l̝̜͍͎a̜̰̹͔̙n̖̞͚e̹͎͖̻t̪̠̲̯̟–

H͙̖̩̖e͕̺̱̭̙ clenched his fists, the torn gloves long since taken off, and dug his nails into his palms until h̖̲͚͙̤e͕̜̥͙ drew blood as h̻̝̻͚e̺̹̙ͅ fought to remain in c̭̗̤̗o̝̤̻̘n̙̝̯t̰r͚̦̳o͚͎̯l̼̠͉ of those u̖̹̱̭r̻̮͍̲g͚̜̱e̹̦̠̯s̳̱̗̜̮. Sephiroth attempted to turn more of ẖ͓̠͈i̲̭̲̭͓̰s̪̩̮ ͇̥̥͍͈a̫̦̝ͅw͚̱̯̫̞a̳̭̻͓̥r̫̬̖̙e̗̩̙͍̞ṇ͕̖̯͖e̼̦̪s̥͇͔̬s̺̪͍ on Zack in order to anchor h̥͙̦̘i̺̱̲͖̼̣m̰͉̰̫ͅself.

"–not really made with Nibel wolves, right? Because that's just plain unhealthy, trust me, I'm talking from experience here," Zack told the infantry soldier. Zack continued to do his best to act as though nothing was wrong, but it was obviously fake. There was the tone of his voice, the myriad of scents, the tension running through his body, the way he held his balance and the rhythm of his heart. Those and so many other signs betrayed the close and wary attention he was constantly paying Sephiroth.

"No, it's just a name. I'm pretty sure it's made with beef and rabbit, actually."

"That's a relief. Not that I wouldn't have eaten it if it was made from Nibel wolves, I was starving. But it's nice to know I didn't eat monster meat, those things give you the absolute worst indigestion. And the story of how I discovered that one is a doozy. Three years ago, I–"

Sephiroth kept as much of his a̳̞͔͈w̤̩ͅa̹̙̯̘r̼̫̱̞e̫͖͕͎n̻̤̮ͅe̩͕̮̦ș͚͓̤͇s̠͔̗̼ as h̻̯͕̥e̻̫̟ could on Zack and his story of how he'd once been forced to eat a behemoth. Yet still h̙̺̝e͖̬̞̙ couldn't help but f͙̰o̝̰͙̲c̺̲u̲̜̩̙̰s̗̥̻ on the unnatural presence of V͎̺̟̫i͚̣̳̝n̯̘̦c̳̰͓̮e͖̫͍n̻͇͕t̜̞͈̞ ͕̣V̬al͙̺ẹ̘͍ṋ̠̜̞ṭ̟̳i̜n̮̰̲̤̟e͎̪͙, standing a short distance away.

V̘̮̫̞i̪͕̲̯n̠̬̱̗c̫̟̬͉e̱̠̘n̙̦̰t͓ ͉̬̦̺V̦̱a͓̬̲le̺̟̠͚n̬̳̳t̺͖̰i̘͕̘̬ṉ̥̣ḛ̹̰ never moved those too familiar eyes away from h̙͉̟̤̤i͎̻͕͕m͚̖̣͎.

Sephiroth dug his nails deeper into his own palms until ẖ̱̼͚̱e̳͓͕̗ scraped bone. The sound almost made Zack wince.

H͕̥̠̠e̝͓̘ wanted to yank V͎̯͍i̫̣͍n̯͎̦c̯̙̬e̤̬ͅn̠͚̼̠t̥̹̤̬ ͓͉̯̖V̭̱̥a̦̟̟͕l͕̥ͅe̖̹̳ͅn̜̪t̰i͍͔̭n̲͕e̦̣̣ͅ by his cloak and shake him until things made sense again, wanted to r͈̫͖a͓͔̭̼g̰̟̼e͖̹ͅ and scream, c͕̱l̺̪̦a̭̖w͚̩̠ at those too familiar eyes until they were a bloody mess, r̲̭̥ͅͅi̻͈p̦̱̭ that inhuman heart out, wanted to h̺̪̬̺u̻͇̳r͚̯͓͚t͚̻̪̙ him, d̟̜̻ͅe̮͎ͅs̜̘͇̰̲tṛ̱̱o͖͈̟y̝̪ him, h̥͖̠̱̦ẹ̝͙͉ ͓̜̻ͅh͈̝̥̖a̮̝͕̱͙d͍̤̙͉̣ ̝̤͍̖͈t͎̼̣͉o͚̗̣͈ͅ ̯̤̺d̥̰̮̻e͕̦̝s̤͔͍t̰̹r͔̺̲̩o͖͙̭ͅy͔̲͕̭–

Sephiroth closed his eyes and tried to keep his a̙̳̲̼ͅw̹̮͈͎a̻̣͔ͅr̤̠̻e̥̬̲n̗͓̠̲e͈̮̪̗s̭̳̼s̺̤͈̮ on Zack. The words were unimportant, Sephiroth was simply using Zack's presence to ground h̥̫̘͈i͇̞͉̳m̜̻̦̤self.

Yet still h̥͕̘̺e̤̖͇̯ couldn't help but f͖̙̙o̙̳̤͓c̙̦ṵ͖̩̱s̮̙̮ on V͈͚̘̺ͅi̞̜n̲͚̲̝̙c͙̬e̠̱̺̟̳n͎̰̮͕t͇͉̦ ̣̹̗V̹̝̝a͎̥l͈̙̞̠ẹ̠n̥̬̩ṯ̥͍͉i̗̖n̙͎͓̮e̤̰̫̣. F̜̯͖̦o̗̻͓̘c̫̫̩̻u̦̤̦̖s̹̼̭̹ on the unnatural silence, that too slow and too soft heartbeat the only sound made. Sephiroth was unable to hear lungs expand as V̖͈i̝̻n̤̮̯̩c̭͓̝e͓͙̤n̘̞̺͙t̜̳͔̘ ͍̦̤V͎̥̟͇a͔l͉͍̦e̞̪̦n̻t̯̱̦̭i͈̘̘̩n͇͇͍̯e͍̖͕ breathed, could not hear any of his internal organs work. Ṿ̖̗̺i͙͈̞n̻̱̻c̫̩͓e̦̝͓n̖̩̱ͅt̮̭̗ ̺̬͉V̳͕͎a̝̼l̻̜̦e͈̭ṇ͉͈t̙̯̬̹i͚̼̤̞n̬̳e̠̹̬ did not give of any kind of body heat, had no smell beyond the scents of the catacombs still clinging to him.

V͚͕͓̠ḭ͙͔n͓̩̘c̤̖̮̻ḙ̪̩̼n̞̹̘t̟͉̪ ̘̱͓̙V͚̠̠a̪͓̫̪l̗̟͈e͖͈ͅn̰t͙̳͙i͎̮n̩͔͍ͅe̹̦͓ was not normal, was _not human_.

Neither was h̙͔͉͖e̫͈͕̻̙. Sephiroth was a monster, just like–

His mother was human.

His mother.

When Sephiroth had been no more than a child, h͕͇͖͖e̬͚͙̻'d learned what h̺͍͎͙̤e̼̝̤ͅ'd thought was the name of his mother. That name had turned her from a distant idea into a real person, had turned **J̼̦̦̘̝e̥̫̞̪n͔̱̞̞̬o̠̝͇͔v̬͎͕̖a̘͎̹̼̤** into his real mother, and h̳̞̖̗e̹͇͈̭ had hoped...

Sephiroth had known even then it was nothing more than a childish dream. Yet even with that knowledge, h̭͉͈̳̰e̦̤͉̲͔'d been unable to stop h̪̝̟͍i̹̱̠̹̹m͔̮̫̦self from hoping that his mother had loved h͖̯͚͖i̞̭͖̬m̹̠̘̞̲.

No matter that Sephiroth wasn't normal.

That hope had never disappeared, had only grown stronger as h͍͎̤̝e̗̰̲͖̣'d grown older. Even though h̥͓̠͈͉e̟̠͈̫ knew that was irrational. To learn that **J̙̲̙͓͚e̥͇͙̥n͍͈̱̟̜o̹̭̼ͅv̱̩̞͇a̯̞̙** was a _monster_ –

Sephiroth had been gripped by a desperate denial, unwilling to believe it, unable to believe it because if his mother was a monster...

Then what did that make h̞͔̠̥̰i͖̤̮̳m͙̞̬ͅ?

The information inside the mansion had been a lifeline, the knowledge that **s̜̰̫̜h̖̖͈e͍̹̪** wasn't a monster but an Ancient the only thing that had allowed h̦̤̻̦̰i̘̤̙̘̙m̜̰̠̺̥ to breathe as h̺̳͉̪̼e͖̠̺̻̼ d̩̖͔͍r̰̘o̻̝͍ͅw̝̲̹̼̙n̟̥̝̙e͚̭͕d̜͉̳ in a shattered hope h̳͚͚e͚̫̦̱'d never realized was so important to h͖̖̺i̼̲̭̠̭m̞̟͉̰.

 **J̯͈̦̯̲̼e̟̪̱̳n̳̟͓̻o̲̘͉̭͙̖v͍̞̥͔a͚̬͎̰** h̬̺̼̖̙̞ḙ̯̣͎̼̩ was not a monster.

 **S̯̤̯͕h͖̘͍̗e͓̞̙͓** didn't love h̥̣̬͉i̝̼̬͙m̠̳̰ͅ. Couldn't, **s̳͍̺h̠̪̺ͅe̖̲̤͍̱** was nothing but the crystalized remnant of a being long since dead. A mindless contributor to his DNA.

But **J͓̠̮͙̱e̮ͅn͎̺̪̺o͖̞v̪̩̦̯͓͙a̹̺̗͇͚** h̙̣̼̯̜e͇̲̳̩ was not a monster.

 **S̺͉̰̬̗̬h̗͍̠͓e̙͚͉͚̮** didn't love h͚̲̱i̠̹̪͍m̪͍̺̞.

Sephiroth's m̬̹̝̞i̩̗͈n̙͖̳͇̘d̹̳̥̯̟ had been caught in endless d͓̦͍̩i̯̥̖s̯͖͖̖ͅa͙̜̣r̻̯̠r̗̙a̫̦̯̱̼y͍̻̹ over these two things, a d͍͎i̙̹s̗͈̲͓a̟̙̘r̥͖͙r͓͎a̤͚̯͈̞y̠̱̼ that only grew stronger the more h̥̗̹̲͍ḛ͍̬̦ read about **J̘̻͙̱̫͉e̖̖͕̟̣̬n̺̭̟̰̺o͍̬͖̦v̰̳̬̠͖̪a͖̺͉̭̤̱** , until h͙͕͓e̥̥͙ could t̘͎̗̣̭̫h͈̰̱̹͇i̻̩͇͔̼n̦͕͔ḳ̤͉̗̺ of nothing but **h͇͙̫͔̟e̤͚̰͚r̬̻͖͓͚**. Time became meaningless, nothing had mattered beyond **J̣͓̝͖̖e͕̼̪̰̯̗n̞̺̩̻̱̮͎o̱͎͚̟͇͓v͖͙̱̩̼̰ͅa̱͇̙̭͓̫**.

Not until Zack had brought the letter.

The letter written by his mother.

 _My_ _ours_ _our Sephiroth_

The letter was almost completely illegible, full of chaotic outbursts, crossed out sentences and calculations h͔̣̠̭e͚̳̼̹ could not make heads or tails of. But there were parts that were still understandable. One of which was the declaration that his mother was not **J̗̤͇̦͉e̻̞͕̩̭ṉ̣̺͚o̜̪̦̟̺v̱̩̝̳̯a̘̳̭̪̠** but that a woman named Lucrecia was.

It said his mother loved h͇̳̹̪i͕̗̮̞̜ṃ̗̬̫̲.

– _so much please please he can't_ _ours_ _not Jenova's mine ours_ _Sephiroth I love you_ –

When Sephiroth had reached the part that stated there was someone – _Vincent has to is is_ _IS_ – down in the catacombs who could tell h̠̫̰̰̦i͍͖͍m͍̜̼͇ the truth, ḫ͚̙̲̠e̮̫͈̗'d lost any semblance of c̗̩̯͙o̟͚͍̱n̖̠̟̪ț̱̖͎̙r̖̥̗̠o͍̟̹̘l̳̼̖̗. Nothing had mattered beyond the all compassing n̞̜̣̮e͖̯̲̺̯e͍̝̲ͅd̞̮̹ to know the truth, to know whether the letter was real.

To know that his mother loved h̠̜̖̯͇i͚̪̩m̰̠͎͍̙.

Yet after Sephiroth had found V͖͈̜̹̞i̦̝̲̝n͇̻̠̩c̤͉̫̭e͓̮̩ͅn̰̣̻t̳͈ ̺̫̼̗V̹̜͙a͈̤̫l͇e̝n̩̫ͅt͚̙͍i͖̹̜̲ṇ̤̤̙e͓͕, after listening to what he had to say...

In many ways, the words had been all Sephiroth had ever wanted to hear. In others, it only made his t̟̰̥̟̤u̥͖̲̭r̦̖͙̭̱m̻͕͎̯o̫̜̫͙̬i̫̪͉͖l͚̪̹̯ worse.

 **J̥̙̰͚̹e̼͈̺͙͍n̮̥̙͙͙o̭̞̲͙̱v͍̘͖̥̖a̫͓̼̺̘** was not an Ancient. **S̟̬̤̤̩h͖̻̜̝e̙̲͓͕** was a monster.

So was h̝̜̳͈͖ḙ̗̭̦̣̣.

His mother had loved h̩̻̱̲̫̘i̫̙̣̠̣̰m͕͇̦̠ͅ. His mother had been t̟̯͉̙a̟͖̖̦͎k̲̲͚̘͓e͈̬̱̝n̟̜͇̞ from h͕̹̗͙i̹͖̼̹m̤͇̦̜̗. His mother had died because _h̠͈̗̗i̲͚ͅs̩̟̲̞ ̯͇̮̜fa̫̜̟t̬̥̦ḥ͉̲e̞͎̟r͕̱̝_ had l̹͙̖̰e̠̜̲̘f̙̲̱̳t̻̰̜̟ ͕͓͍͙h̺̬̮e̱̹̳r͚͎̗ ̰͕̱̻ **a̦͔͔̬l̗͖͖o͕͇̦̮n̝̗̱̣e̟̩͎̠** –

Sephiroth ground his teeth and f̙͖̪̩̗o̻͎̟c̫̥͚ͅu̖͙̩̮s̖̭̝͇e̦̯̳̝d̻̥̜̳ on the sound of Zack's deepening breathing. F̪͙̣̮o̲̙̘c͙̻͇̥u̳̻̫̙s͈͙̪̟e̼ͅd̩͙̻͍ on the rise in Zack's fear, on his heartbeat as it started speeding up, the growing tension underlining his voice as he continued talking to the infantry soldier.

Sephiroth could not afford to lose c̰̖̪̮͕o͖͚̠̬͎n̲̣̻t̻̦̰̪r̭o͚̝͇̤̙l̹͉̮̠̩̩.

Not again.

H̤̝͕̤e̲̱͇̘̘ opened his eyes and gazed towards Angeal's blade. Towards the fracture running across the metal.

Towards the damage caused by Sephiroth's own hand.

The sight was just enough to ensure that h̩͔̺̟e͉̥̠̗͖ didn't get ḷ̻͈̫o͉̺̰s͔̱̤t͍͈̰̩ in the mindless f̖̪͙̼̱u̘͚̝̤͔r͔̬̝̟̥y͇͍̙̠ clawing at his every t̩̣̘̭h̘̟̹ͅo͇͍̳̪u͔̠͎̦g͎̤̩̥h̺͖̝ț̯̥̳.

Sephiroth had never f̻͓͖e̝̰̞͉l̹̖̬̘t̞̹̦ like this before, had never needed to continuously fight as h̲̤͚͚ḙ̱̺͇ now did to remain in c̮̝̮̲̫o̹̬̘̫̯n̺͇͙̱t̝̹͈͉r̼̻̙̖o̼̣̳̖l̹̹̖̘ of h̺͈̬͖i͈̯͓̤̱m̹̲̻̬̱self.

It would be so easy to give in. To give up. Because hisfathmonstmother **s̖͙̙̯** h͔̲̫̯̜e̮̺̣̘̩ ͔̬͇w̩̹͓̻a̤͚̲̬̠̼s̜͕̼͉̙ **̤̤͙͇ͅa̭͙͇̫̯l̜̮̳̦͍o̩̘̝̮̘n͎̻̪̣̯e͚̟̪̞** –

Sephiroth traced every detail of the fracture marring Angeal's blade, the exact length, depth and angle. Yet even with that reminder, even when seeing the consequences of what would happen if h͖̪̮̣͚e͍͙͎̠̹ gave in to the all encompassing r̲̣̬̱̻̩a̹̪̪̦g͕̥̦̘e̯̯̪̤̜...

The p̦̘͍ͅr͍̟̞̺e̹̥̺̟s̹͉͇̮e̤͍͙̙͍n̠͖̣̼̱̳c̫̻̖̥̦e̙̹̹̤̳ of V̜̤i͔̜n̼̺c͎͈̱̗e͉̯n̘̩͔t̥̙͍ ̲̘͕V͍̻a̙̖͇l͈̯͖e̲̳̜̱̯n̬̦̩ti̙̼̰͙n̯͉e̞̻͇ was almost enough to make h̟̠̬̪i̟͍̫͖m̪̞̖͔ give in anyway.

So Sephiroth closed his eyes and did his best to f̣̘̥͎o̱͎͖̩c̰̠̙̟u̫̗̼̣ͅs̪͔̘̼ on Zack.

"–fashion choice? I'm not judging, people can like the strangest things. If wearing the bucket makes you feel pretty, you go right ahead and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Be a proud Cloud."

"Stop, you're making me blush."

Zack laughed, and the sound was mostly genuine. Sephiroth tracked Angeal's puppy's exact change in position as he leaned forward a little.

"You sure you're blushing? The bucket is making it hard to see."

"That's why I'm wearing it."

"And here I thought it was because it makes you feel pretty."

"That too. People can do things for multiple reasons, you know."

"Was that a dig at my intelligence, Cloud?"

"Of course not. Interesting that's the first thing you thought of, though. Is there something you want to tell me, Zack?"

Sephiroth let the meaningless banter wash over h̞͎̬̥̳i̙̦͇͎͔m̬͖̥͎̰, an anchor from the ḓ̬̘̫̟i̺̙̹ͅs̭̳͈c͙̭̬̪o̲̙̤̫r̬̺̖̗d̖̦̤̱ tearing at his m̹̖̳i͖̗̟n͕̹͈d̼̻̳. H͇̖͉̘e̝̻̰̪ attempted to f͉̙͉͖o̥̼̻c̺̩̘͕ṷ̜̼s̞̟̜̜ more on Zack instead of V͉͇i̻͔̫̰n̤̖̜c̺͙̰e̹̭̮n͖̳̯ṱ̩͔ ͕̟V̘̪̱͙a̲͚̣ͅḽ̰e̦̰̼̘n̤̜̱̭ti͉̺̥n̺̯͉ḛ̖, attempted to not t̹̪̜̠h̳̦̟͉i̞͉ͅn̦̩͇̝k̙͉̹̫̣ about h̠̟͎̙i̱̝̥s̥̻͙–

But that just led his t̯͕͓̞h͍̯̬̺o͙͕u̪̞̱̩g͙͚h͕̻t̞͎͈s͚̭ back to his mother. To wondering what had happened to her.

Sephiroth _would_ find out the answer to that question, no matter what h̲͙̤͇e͈͇̲̩ had to do. H̰̥̻̺e̦̮̼͇ knew where to start searching as well.

 _Hojo_.

Sephiroth had despised the man for as long as h̝̼̰͚e͕̞̬ͅ could remember, but now ḥ̟͕̙̞e͔̤̲̤͖̣ would ensure the man told h̻̹̻̻i͎̖̳̪m̹͖̲̞ _everything_ he knew.

It was only – **J̗̞͕͎e͍̲̝̰̰n̯̪̙͉̤o̗̤̦̘͈v̭͎̰̻a͍͎̱̝** – Zack's presence which prevented h̻͎̻̲̤i̟̭̫̳m̤͙̱͙ from immediately returning to Midgar and force Hojo to answer the questions haunting h̙͉̱͉i̹̯̱̥ṃ͓̲̬. It had been Zack who'd insisted they needed a plan first, to ensure Hojo had no chance to slip away, to ensure he would not simply tell more lies.

Had Zack not been so supportive of Sephiroth's own n̫̺̪͙̘e͈̘̟͖e̩̳͔̳d̗̬͉͍ to find – **J̜̦͚͎e̼̬͎̤n̼͍͇̰o̻͓͖v͍͈̤͎̲a̫̞̲ͅ** – out what had happend to is mother, as though it was the most natural thing on the Planet, Sephiroth feared– no, h̲̠̭̻̗e̹̼̥̘ͅ knew h̰̺̹͉e̙̻̩̬ would've done something h͔̲̳̫e̬͈̳͕ would have later regretted.

But perhaps h̪̦̖̱͓e͙͈͈̻ wouldn't have regretted it. Perhaps h̦̦̰̭e̜͚͎͕ would've been lost to mindless r͙̥̞̞a̺̰̞͇g̝̣̜e̪̖͙̠ forever.

Sephiroth was frightened by how little that thought bothered h̹̦͚ͅi̠̗̗͈ṃ̹̞͉.

"–Sephiroth?"

Zack's use of his name made Sephiroth open his eyes. H̗̲͈͈̖e̖̥͙̼ met a worried gaze, the gleam of Zack's eyes dimmer than usual as he gave h̭͙̩̼i͈͚̘̹m͖̳̦̤ a forced grin.

"There's still some broth left. You want it?" Zack asked, the underlying tension in his voice becoming a little stronger.

"No, I'm no longer hungry," Sephiroth answered. While it was true h̝̬̺͖e͖̝͉̮ could go several days without food or water without suffering a loss in performance, it was also true that the constant h͉̯̞͍u̱̱̭͖n̙̙̟͓g͔̩̤e͍͕͚r͔̱̞ had made it even more difficult to ṱ̭̞̝h̯̮̠͓i̪̦͚n͚͍̘̱k͈̼̫̼. Though Sephiroth had not realized this until his h̝̺̻u͎͉͙̫n̬͍͚g̬̠̗͉e̳̞̜̬r͉̲̜̰ had – **n̥͈̺̠e̗͖̲͈v͉̫͈͖e̱̦̥̜r̯̪͇** – been s̫̩͎͍̹a̬̮͉t̫̥̫̱̟e͉͚̩d͉̰̩̞.

The c̙͉̳̣̝l͓̝͙̫a̠̺̲̫r͕̰͈͚i̩̳̗t͉̱͉̰̦y͙̫ it had brought was minimal.

"How about you, Vincent? Seriously, you've got to be hungry. Eat something," Zack said to– to V͉͚͓̘i̦̞̣̳n̹͍c͍̦̪e̳͓̞n͔̭͔t̳͕ ̝̣͚V̝̟̪a̙̟ḽ̼̙ẹ͔̗n͙̣̣t̲̥͚͉i͈̘͙n̠̳̯ẹ̤͍.

V̰̤̤̻i͎̠n̟̻c̳̙̹̠e̪̲̝͉n̺̩̻̬t̗̝͍ ̞V̘̹̟a̻̫̮l̲e͔̹͚n̘̣̺t̗͚̖̙i͇͚̮n̫̘̟ͅe͚̭ never moved his gaze away from ḫ̦̼i̘̻͉̹m̫̯̣ͅ, had not done so this entire time. H̻̦͙i͚͓s̫̝͈– V͓̰̦̻i̠̩͇n͙̯͖̲c̬̰̟͓e̲̗̝n̯̜̳̙t̗͕ ̻̟̘̪V̯a͔͖̞l̘̥͎̯ḛ̳n̬t͙̖̪i̫n͔̫ͅe̯͎̱ͅ simply kept staring at ḥ̥͔̙i̳͙̟̱m͓͈͍ with eyes Sephiroth knew too well.

Eyes Sephiroth saw every time h͖̪̗̥e̫̝̙̝̰ looked into a mirror.

"I'm not hungry," V͍̼͍i̙̳̳n̟̥̪c͙̱e̤̱̮͎n̹̩͇t̳̤̤̠̜ ̪͖͉V͍̖̖̣a͙͖l͙̝̱e̤͍n͙̥̰t̯͕̹̤in̪̲͔e͍̖̗ replied, the same one he had given before.

"Not even a little? I mean, when was the last time you ate?" Zack prodded with genuine curiosity, even as he kept most of his attention on Sephiroth h̩̤̣͙̭i̪͙͉͙m̗͓̟͈self.

V̞̦͇̦i̩̳͉̯n̯̠͉̥c̗͕̬̤e͙͙̫͍ṋ͙̫t̫͓̙̗ ͕͉̯̣V̞͉̗͚a̝͉̲͔l͇̦̫e̲̱̪͔n̼̝͓ṯ̼̦̲͉i̝n͉͉e̟̲̖ did not reply.

Once more Sephiroth had to dig his nails into his own flesh until h̟̱̳̰e̻͍͎ scraped bone, had to resist the urge to a͔͇͉̗t̫̗̘̹͉t̰̖̣a̤̫͕̱c̳̻̤̤̲k̰̥͇̟̙–

"Must be over two days at least, what with Sephiroth being in the basement. Or was there food in the catacombs? Seems unlikely, but hell, so do those frigging catacombs in the first place," Zack declared a touch too quickly, pretending nothing was wrong. Offering h̯̭̳̖ͅi͙̮͓͙ṃ̞̟̰͎ a distraction.

It was enough to allow Sephiroth to remain in c̮̞̥̺o͓͈̲̘n̥͉t͎̪̠̗̤r̦͕o͖̱͈͎͍l͕̬̩̞ of h̥͍̠͉i͎̘̥̬m̙͉̜͎self.

V̗͉̘i͓̹̭n͕̱c̞̹̙e̼̯̘n͎̪ͅt̪̭̻ V͖̺̠̙a̻͍̩l͓̫̺e͈̫͈n̫͉͙t̻̺͇i̬͓̯n͍̖e̫̲ still didn't speak, merely kept gazing at h͚̯̝̪i̫̞͉̲m̜̮͈ͅ with those too familiar eyes h̭̗͓̼̭e͖͎͉͇ wanted to c͉̙̹l̖̖͎̙a̜̫̭͍w̪̝͙ ̹͇̮̜o̠͕̳̫ụ̥t̖̠̣̝–

"Who even thinks of building that?" Zack continued a little too quickly again. "I mean, obviously someone did, but seriously, frigging catacombs. That's without getting into the corpses. And I thought the Reactor was bad, what with those pods and Jenova–"

" _ **Ẃ̶̕҉h̛҉a̷̡͘t̴́?͏̕**_ "

R̰̖̻̦a̳̝͕ͅg͕̪ḛ͍̯̺ was replaced by **f̰͓̯̞o̳̣̳c̱̫̤u̯͍s͈̹̞** as the **b͈̟̳̤e̘̰͉̦i͕͕͙ṇ̖̭ͅg̖̯͕** took over, every part of h̩̫̪̱̘i͉̫̹͉m̺̗̫̮ ready to **d̼̖͉̳e͎̞̭ͅs͓̠̲͈t̫r̖̲̝̙ͅo̫̙̭̰y̰̖̰** –

Sephiroth absently registered that ṣ͍̼̯o̥̱̦̰̱m̱̪̹̪e̱̦͇̱t̖͇̘̥h̞͇̣̰i͕̗̰̱̱n̙̠̪͓̭g͈̣͇͓ froze but all h͔̥͇͎i͎̣̟͇̖s̰̻ **f̯̥̻ͅo͍̪͇c̳͉̬̺ṷ͙̖̬̗s̬͇̭** remained on the **b̼͚̭̠e̩͈̝̗i̞̖̖̤ṉ͎̞̹g̤̗̘ ̝̪͕̥** h͇͙̮̬̣e͚̥̖̬ ̩̲̦̱̱̪h̠͙͉̖a͎̭̺̞̤d̫̮̯͈̯ ͈͚̦̱̼t̝̮̬̦o̯̼͚͕ ͎̫̩̩ **d̤̘̯̭e̠͔̞ͅs̘̫͙͇t̙̥r͍͕o̠̮̱̗ͅy̯̙** –

The one who knew his mother.

Just like before, that knowledge was the _only_ thing that allowed Sephiroth to remain still, to force h̙̙͖̥i̖̼̩̦̩m̭̯̼͙self not to – **d͕̙̯͉e͉̜̹s̯̬̥̹t̩͉r͕̦͉͔o̠̭̰̥ͅy̦̗̩** – move in any way, knowing that if h̲̤̭͎̗ẹ̥̳̬ did h͕̤͇̫ͅe͓͇̫̦̱ ̰̗̬̺̥w̟͕͍ͅo̝͓̙̤u̘̗͈̺l͎͇͓ͅḍ̥͇̙̯ ̬̥̲̰̭ **d͚͓̻e͎̹͍̪̱s̺̪̝̗̱t̙̰̣̠r̹̞͖̻͎o͙̮͈͙̗y̩̞͇** –

Orbs that were an illusion of light, skin more shadow than matter and wings that were not truly there as all that existed around the **b̜̥̣̮̣͓e͓͉͉͖̗i̭̼͖̝̦ͅn̦̳͈̙̼g̙͚̗͖** was drawn into a void h̰̬̻̹̰e̩̘̻͎ ̯̥͚ͅh̫̹͉a͔͇͚͇d͇̻͕͙ ̗̖̤t͇̳͓͍̤o̙̪̙̠͉ ̫̱ **ḏ͈̠̪e͉̗͈̭s͙̱̻̟t͓̟̱̹̰ṟ̪̙̬o̭͓͓̭y͕̲͎͙** –

The one who knew _his mother_.

Sephiroth managed not to – **d̦̰̯͚e͓̩͎̩s̻̞̫̲̰t̬͓͈̮r͖̟͖o̬͈̳͚y̮̲̫̗** – move.

The **ḅ͔̬̤e̖̗͍i̘͖͓̰n͙̻͖̹g̞̱͓** slowly turned back into V̥̪i̱͔̠̤n̙̭̘̞c͎̼͖e͚̩̫ͅn͔̮̹͙t͓̰̰ ͇͎̻V̫̪͙̩a̼̲̤̰l̘̞̳̹e̺n̹̭ͅt͍i̻͉̼̦n̟̳ḛ̝̰.

V͔̘̭̫i̻̯͙n̮̟̬̭c͎̤̜e̖̠̗̳n͇͇̞̻t̖͎̪̗ ͚͍̫V̰̖͍a̜͙̝ḷ̪͙e͚̰͎n̙̙͕t̘i̹̪n͉ͅḙ̦̗ took an audible breath as his inhuman heartbeat started up again. His pained expression disappeared and became blank in a too forced way instead.

Sephiroth registered that Zack came out of his instinctive freeze and that the infantry soldier gasped for breath. Zack shifted his balance to better be able to maneuver as he returned most of his attention towards Sephiroth.

H͓̪̙̖̱e̹̙̜̣̪ felt his previous r̫͙̤̣̘͉a̫̻̯̖͙g̥͎̗̤e͇̬̩̼̜ return now that the b̠͖̮̜̺̞e̻̼̪͖i̮͕̣͈̳̤n͚̳̹̣̮ͅg̱̹̮̤̼ was mostly dormant once more.

"Je̛n̕ova҉ is in̡s̶id̛e t̷̨he̷̶ Re҉ac̡t̶o̴ŗ?" V̯̺̭i͙͈̙n͚̹͎c͍̝̹̤̟e̜̻̣̰n̪̝͇t̪̖̜ ͖͔̘ͅV͖̤̠̼a̯̙̮̻l͍̪e̻̮̫̯n̫̠̳͙t̩͉̟ͅi͍ͅn͖͙̦e̦̪͓ asked in a voice that straddled the very edge of becoming o̯̮̲̩̬t͓̺ͅh̯̟̰ͅe̦̭r̖̪̙̞.

Sephiroth clenched his fists and dug his nails in until h̻̘̜̣e̯̯͚̘ scraped already healed bone once more.

That voice made Zack's heartbeat jump with involuntary terror and he gave V͕̟̱i̼̳̭͇n̯̺c͉͖͍e̥̻͖n͔̜ͅt̳̟ͅ ̘̺͍V̖̹̳a̝̝̱l̜̭͚e̘͇̰̣n͇̱̱t̟̤i̦̝n̻̱̣e͙̝̰ a confused glance.

"Wha– oh. No, I meant there was this whole thing with– there was a sign with Jenova written on it, not–"

"She is," Sephiroth interrupted Zack, making him fall silent with surprise. V̝̟͖̖i̟̯͍n̦̬̲ͅc͚͍̘ͅe͕͖͓n̼̝̪t̖̱͉͖ ̫͓̘V̲̼̞̹a̩̗͍l͚̱̩ḙ̻̮n̤̝t̫̰̖i̙n͚͕̲ḙ̝̜'s gaze snapped back to ẖ̘̗̤̘i̻̠̺s͕̦͙ ̳͔̠o͈̹̮w̱͇ͅn̖͈͖ with a f̦͓͉o̙̜c̳̱̭ṳ̠̻s̻̞̱ that was physical. "Jenova is inside the Reactor," Sephiroth continued, sharing one of the pieces of information h͉̰̖̙e͔̻̠̹'d discovered in the basement. Information h̗̘̤̮͙e͖̪̤̰̤'d immediately k͖͕̯̬n̤̬̠̬o̳͉̞̖w̗̥̼ͅn̟̲̝̞ was true.

V̺͙͇̫i͇̰͍̲n̻̮̲̦c̫e̪̻̜̦n̳̯̭ͅt̮̺̠̺ ̩͎̯̜V̯̮͖̦̟a̯̰̜l̯̭̣̺͉e̻͙̝n͉͔̱̼̲t͔ḭ̗̟n̪̺͎ḛ̦̠͙'s too familiar eyes turned into orbs imitating light and the edges of his cloak became not quite corporal while shadows crawled beneath what had been human skin.

Sephiroth snapped six bones inside his hands as h̥̬̺e̠̪͍̤ dug his nails in even deeper. Only sheer will prevented h̬͍̠̯̙i͉̘̦̭̹m̱̭̪͖ from moving forward to **ḏ͍̺̲e̩̳̹͔s̱͈̘̫ț̭̣͇ṛ̺o̠̣͙̤y̮̝ͅ** –

The one who knew his mother.

"Why do you want to know?" Sephiroth asked as he forced h̲̗̯͇̬i̦̞̤̩̠m̥̺͖͔self not to move, not to **d̯̥̹͓e̤̳͎̠ͅs͍͍̖ͅț̥r̫͖̪͎o̱͉̳y͍̹̹** –

" _B҉eca͢use I'm̨ ̛go̕ing t͡o̡ ͜d̶o what̢ I s̸ho͝u̧ld've do̵ne͘ ̀a̷ ̷l̴on͟g̕ ti͠me ̧ago_ ," the a͖̯̟͔b̥̯̼̗̭o͎̯̯̫m̼͕̞̳̦i̥̬̩͉̠n̠̮͎͈͙a̠̘͕̦̩ț̞̳i̙̙̦͇̮o̘̮̼͙n̪̙͎̰ that was part **b̗͙͕̦e̞̖͎̼i͇̻̺n̻̯̟̤͎g̥̩̱̙** and part V͚̲͇͕i͚͉̙̥ṉ̮͎̩c̙̩͓̲ḙ͔͔n̝̼̙t̯̞ ̼̞͔̙V̠̻͍a͙͉͇l̠̹̖̖e͕n͖̫̯t̙͓̹i͎̺̱n̼͖̮e̥̞͍ hissed back. Sephiroth almost reached for his sword, barely caught h̳̠̘͔̤i̭̯̯͇̘m̮͈̖̪self in time.

W͎̖̗̟h̻̻̮ạ͍͚͓t̫͇͕̲ ̻̟͎͖w͈̜̠̹a͓̜̱̥͎s͈̦̘̖ ͇̥̻͍n̥̭͇͈̤o̩̥͈t̻̲̠̭ ̦͔̞̘V̮̯i̥̙̱n̙͖̙c͍̭e̤̰͉̙n̹̫̬t̟͍ ̣̣̞̖͓V͕̫̳a̰̼͇̝̬l̮̰̲̯͕e͙̙n͉̹͚ț̩̪i̦̜̻n̰̮̲e̬͈̭ bared inhuman teeth.

" _I̶̵ ̕a̢̕m̛ ̀͢g̵oi̢̢n͡g̢̛ ̴t͏o̧ ̶̸̨d̛͟estr̵o̕y̷ ̨͘J͜en̵҉o͘v҉à._ "

* * *

**Past**

"Happy New Year!"

Vincent Valentine watched the festivities from his place by the wall, amused by the sheer revelry of all those present. Partly caused by the various levels of intoxication most had already achieved, but the main cause was from having a release for the underlying tension that had risen fairly high by now.

Eight months of constantly living together in confined quarters would do that. The mansion might be huge and the grounds even more so, but that didn't change the fact that this was a closed environment. It brought a certain amount of cabin-fever. It also required a careful manipulation of the social dynamics to ensure everyone remained capable of doing their jobs and didn't suffer a mental breakdown. Including Vincent.

The fact that he intellectually knew he wasn't a prisoner didn't erase the mental strain of constantly living within the same walls. Which was why he was enjoying the party so much.

Music was blaring throughout the decorated recreation room. The sofas, chairs and tables, the last laden with food and drinks, were all placed against the walls to make room for the scientists and staff to celebrate. Which they did with wild abandon. Including the cook, maid and guard who most certainly weren't part of the Department of Administrative Research.

The only one absent was Hojo. Not unexpected, this wasn't something the man enjoyed in the slightest. He'd rather spend his time working. And he was doing so right now, against the protestations of Faremis. Vincent would go over the footage later to make sure, but honestly, the odds of Hojo doing anything subversive to the project were for all intents and purposes zero.

For now.

That was business however, and Vincent wasn't on the job right now. Like everyone else here, he was celebrating the New Year.

Kiran giggled outrageously as Tamaki jokingly smacked her on the lips, while Creed and Star did the same with even greater exaggeration. Faremis enthusiastically embraced Astrix, Stephenson was pulled in a one armed hug by Triss, Moriarty clapped Devir on the shoulder, Hollander and Castilian toasted drinks. Everyone wished each other a happy New Year. Then they continued their previous dancing.

Well. Some danced. Others merely attempted.

Vincent watched with amusement as Devir tripped over his own feet and stumbled into Heathers. Who simply laughed in response, for once not taking offense as she kept the man from falling over. Tamaki and Kiran resumed their swaying from before, both of them far too unsteady on their feet.

Bright visibly gathered her courage and invited Sanders to a dance. Sanders accepted with what was more than a fair amount of enthusiasm for him. Minx laughed as she took took hold of Lucrecia Crescent's hands and pulled her into a dance.

Lucrecia Crescent.

Vincent let his full gaze rest on the woman only for a moment, before he began observing Faremis as the man accidentally pushed Star into Triss. It wasn't merely caused by Faremis being tipsy either, the man naturally gained two left feet the instant he started moving to music.

Yet even though most of Vincent was entertained by this, he couldn't help the wandering of his mind. It was impossible to observe Lucrecia Crescent in any way and not start thinking of his father. Though by now, Vincent had long since gotten used to this.

That didn't mean he enjoyed it.

Vincent had spent over seven years trying not to think about his father. Until this project, he'd been very successful too.

But from the moment Lucrecia Crescent's file had first crossed his desk, Vincent had been unable to prevent his mind from straying towards the man who'd raised him. Living in the same mansion as the woman and having to constantly observe her only made it so much worse.

Lucrecia Crescent was responsible for the circumstances that led to his father's death. For that, Vincent couldn't help but resent the very sight of her. However, Vincent was a professional. He wouldn't allow his personal feelings to interfere with his job.

Him always taking care to quietly approach the woman from her blind spots when she was alone and the admittedly childish satisfaction he took in violently startling her, didn't interfere with his job either. The first time had been by true accident, Vincent was simply accustomed to moving quietly. Both by nature and by training. After seeing her reaction however...

It might be childish, but in Lucrecia Crescent's case, Vincent honestly didn't care. Not when he so _deeply_ disliked the need to interact with her in the first place. Or even the need to simply observe her.

Though the time he'd startled her when she'd been so upset about his father... that had been unintended as well.

Every other time had been on purpose.

Because to Vincent's great misfortune, Lucrecia Crescent was one of the highest security risks. Not a certain one, not yet, that would require immediate intervention. But the odds of it turning certain were near absolute. The woman not only hated everything ShinRa with a passion, she was the only one who felt true terror and disgust for the object of study. An emotional disgust that went far deeper than the instinctive reaction all besides Hojo had when looking at the mutated specimen.

However, right now the woman only showed those emotions when she wasn't doing her job. Which she did correctly, that much was clear enough not just from her own behavior, but from that of her colleagues as well. When working, Lucrecia Crescent was as driven and fascinated as any of his other primary charges.

Even so, the woman's terror and too strong disgust when not working had made Vincent's professional suspicion rise from the start. Which meant he'd been forced to pay her closer attention than most from the start as well. At first to learn the irregularities in behavior that would indicate her planning some concrete form of sabotage, but by now that had shifted to being on a constant lookout for those signs. Far more than he needed to do for the others.

No else here already had the goal of sabotage. Fortunately for Lucrecia Crescent, the woman had no clue how to go about doing it.

For now.

The security cameras that were placed throughout the mansion, as well as the hidden surveillance equipment that definitely wasn't, helped with this part of his job. A lot.

It meant he wasn't forced to interact with the woman. Not beyond the bare minimum, at least.

A consequence of Vincent paying her closer attention than most, was that he'd soon discovered practically everything there was to know about Lucrecia Crescent.

Passionate. Selfish. Determined. Curious. Those formed the essence of her character. The woman was also arrogant, bossy, bullheaded, and was ruled by her emotions. She sometimes got overwhelmed by those emotions to the point of hysteria, had a temper that could be roused at the slightest provocation, could be rather playful, and finally, she was one of the absolute worst liars he'd ever seen.

When Lucrecia Crescent started making concrete plans for sabotage, Vincent was going to spot it a mile off. The woman was ridiculously transparent. She was also utterly oblivious in many ways. Give the woman the big picture and she was capable of drawing reasonable, well thought out conclusions, but when it came to personal interactions not involving science, Lucrecia Crescent was blind to any and all forms of subtlety.

Vincent wished he didn't understand why his father had liked her so much.

Of course, by now he'd created similar profiles for all the mansion's inhabitants. Living together for so long didn't allow for anything else, even if it hadn't been a basic necessity for his job. Yet therein laid the biggest problem he was now struggling with.

Vincent was bored.

Boredom led to complacency, which led to mistakes. Boredom wasn't something he could afford.

Unfortunately, it was impossible to prevent from happening. By now, Vincent didn't just know what was normal behavior for everyone, he'd discerned all the major causes as well.

Dorian Tamaki's conflicting desires to both please the people around him and act contrary at the same time stemmed from his parents continuing refusal to accept his sexuality.

Elizabeth Kiran's thirst to prove herself could be traced back to her experiences as an orphan bouncing around foster care.

Rani Castilian's unshakeable confidence in himself flowed forth from his great wealth and living a life without true hardship.

Orin Devir's wholehearted dedication to this project and his underlying impatience with its progress were caused by a minor obsession to ensure his name would go down into history.

Mike Stephenson's constant uncertainty over how to interact with others outside of a professional context was a consequence of being heavily bullied as a child.

Eugene Hollander's arrogance masked a deep insecurity about his own intelligence and achievements, the root which laid with the mother he'd never been able to please.

Gast Faremis was naturally driven by endless curiosity, the main motivation behind the sheer ambition needed to get this project approved of.

And Marius Hojo was a born sociopath, genuinely incapable of empathizing with anyone other than himself.

Vincent knew all this and so much more. He knew their likes and dislikes, their habits and tells, could accurately predict their every reaction to behavior displayed by one of the other inhabitants, and he could make far more than just a good guess on how they'd react to any outside factor. He could do this not just for the scientists, his primary responsibility, but for the rest of the staff as well. Including the ones who most certainly weren't part of the Department of Administrative Research.

He could do this for Lucrecia Crescent.

It would've been easier if he couldn't. If he didn't understand her obsessive adherence to safety protocols was caused by an enduring guilt over her role in his father's death. If he didn't know that she genuinely missed his father for the person he had been. Didn't know she genuinely mourned his loss.

It would've made it easier to remain angry with her.

Part of him still was. Probably always would be. But it was no longer as strong as before, and the anger her presence still inspired wasn't aimed at her. Not wholly. Not even most of it.

It never had been.

The reason Vincent tried so hard not to think about his father, the reason he didn't want to remember him... was because it was his father he was angry at.

Vincent knew every detail surrounding his father's death. He knew it was his father who'd conceded to Lucrecia Crescent's decision to skip those crucial regulations.

His father had let a woman who'd graduated not even a year before that, a woman barely twenty years old, dictate their standards of safety. When he'd known the potential risks it would create. When he had the authority to stop it. When _he_ had been in charge.

Lucrecia Crescent might've created the circumstances that led to his father's death, but it was his father who'd allowed them to happen. It was his father who was to blame. Who was responsible for his own death.

That wasn't something Vincent could forgive, why even after all this time he was still so _angry_ –

Except Vincent didn't _want_ to be angry, didn't want to taint the memories of the man who'd raised him, loved him, who'd taught him to always be true to who he was. Yet he couldn't help it.

So Vincent tried very hard not to think about his father.

Lucrecia Crescent's very existence made that an impossible task. As evidenced by Vincent thinking about this, even as he also watched Heathers flirt outrageously with a completely flustered Devir. The man simply didn't know how to deal with this kind of behavior from the woman who was normally so politely indifferent towards him.

Vincent knew that Heathers wouldn't do more than flirt with the man, drunk and high on the atmosphere or not. She'd also return to her usual demeanor tomorrow and not give this moment any more thought. Devir on the other hand, would fantasize about this event for quite a while. Rather loudly too.

Yet even though most of Vincent was entertained by this, as long as Lucrecia Crescent remained in his field of vision he couldn't stop the wandering of his mind to things he didn't want to think about. Which was _really_ annoying, seeing as this was his night off.

That was the worst part of it all. He didn't even need to interact with the woman for his mood to sour, only observe her. Actually interacting with the woman however, was so much worse.

 _Everything_ Lucrecia Crescent did grated. Vincent hadn't managed to talk with the woman even once without being incredibly annoyed at the least. While much of that annoyance was always aimed toward himself and his own reactions, a great deal of it was always aimed towards her as well.

Lucrecia Crescent made him feel things he didn't _want_ to feel. At all.

His personal reaction wasn't helped by the woman's own hostility in the slightest. Neither was the fact that most of her hostility was motivated by her guilt over his father's death.

Then there was the aggravating fact that Lucrecia Crescent was an attractive woman and Vincent couldn't help but inadvertently appreciate that. He also couldn't manage to erase the image of her coming out of her bathroom clad in a towel.

A rather short towel.

Vincent wrenched his mind away from that image, annoyance and more than a fair amount of exasperation rising. He wasn't in the mood for this, Vincent wanted to enjoy the New Year. So he did.

By unobtrusively watching Bright and Sanders as they attempted to leave the room without drawing attention. Emphasis on attempt, seven had already noticed their passage and were giving them open attention. Some louder than others.

Aside from Triss, it was all good natured. The guard, however, was giving the departing couple a jealous look that hid genuine hurt. Thankfully, Triss was also doing his best to ensure this didn't ruin the festivities. The guard forced a smile for a compassionate Moriarty, before he shot back the last of his drink and immediately went to get another. Given that Triss was a happy drunk, this would lower the odds of him ruining the atmosphere. Good.

Both Bright and Sanders ignored the playful catcalls. The two were wearing besotted smiles and were so very carefully not touching as they walked too closely together.

Those two had been flirting for over four months now. Vincent had been expecting Bright to make a move for the past week, and it seemed this party had finally given her the push she needed. It had also given Sanders the push needed to accept the invitation.

Of course, them becoming romantically involved would bring changes to the mansion's dynamics that would have to be carefully managed. Not in the least because Triss became rather petty when jealous, and given their isolation, that could easily escalate to dangerous levels.

But those were thoughts for tomorrow. Tonight, Vincent would simply relax.

Bright and Sanders weren't the only one who'd end up sleeping together this evening, that much was clear to see. Normal for any assignment where there was no separation between work and private, humans had urges. Though their constant living together also meant that it was difficult to sleep with someone without added attachment. In this particular case, that tendency was even greater.

ShinRa might've deliberately searched for people without too many attachments in order to ensure the secrecy of this project, but that also meant everyone here was more susceptible than usual to forming new ones with each other. Even without adding in their isolation.

This was a large part of the reason for why Vincent himself had been chosen for his own position. Not because he didn't have many attachments, though that was true as well, but because he didn't easily form new ones. Not beyond superficial ones at least.

Vincent liked to observe things from a distance, liked to figure out why people acted the way they did. He always had. He also did it without becoming too emotionally invested in the people he observed.

Vincent knew he was an uncomfortably cold person. He'd often been told that he was too indifferent and aloof. He wasn't insulted by that, it was the truth after all. Besides, he liked who he was. He also liked his job, and his personality was a large part of why he was so good at it. It allowed him to remain objective.

His gaze was involuntarily drawn towards Lucrecia Crescent, laughing at something Stephenson said.

Mostly objective.

Vincent turned his gaze towards Castilian as the man changed the music. Castilian winked at Star and held out an inviting hand. In return, the maid who most certainly wasn't part of the Department of Administrative Research gave a slow, sensuous smile, before she shifted her stance and assumed a dancer's poise. She glided towards Castilian in time with the music, every step deliberately seductive.

They started a tango. Naturally, it made them the center of attention for the entire room.

Vincent was genuinely impressed by the display of skill. Both Castilian and Star had formal training in the dance and it showed. Enthusiastic cheers soon rose from their observers. Those two were going to sleep together this evening as well, though it definitely wouldn't be for the first time. They were good friends with even better benefits.

Vincent kept watching the show happening in front of him, but he did turn more of his attention towards Minx as she began weaving her way towards him on slightly unsteady feet.

"You're just going to stand here all night?" the cook who most certainly wasn't part of the Department of Administrative Research asked after she almost but not quite stumbled to a halt next to him. Vincent continued watching her from the corner of his vision instead of turning his gaze towards her. Mostly because he was still enjoying the show put on by Castilian and Star. It was even more impressive because of the alcohol already affecting the balance of both dancers.

"I'm admiring the view," he told her, not raising his voice beyond the usual and forcing Minx to read his lips.

Minx rolled her eyes with exasperation too forcefully and pretended that the movement caused her to sway on her feet on a little. She was good at faking being drunker than she was. Though in all fairness, she was rather tipsy.

"Oh lighten up, Valentine, it's a party! Drink, dance, have fun! You do know what having fun is, right?" she asked with a deliberately intoxicated smile. The mirth making her eyes crinkle was genuine.

In answer, Vincent lifted the beer held in one hand and took a sip. Minx laughed too loudly, but not so loud as to draw attention from the still cheering crowd.

"You have booze! Oooh, are you drunk? How many have you had?" she asked as though she didn't know he'd been nursing the same drink for most of the evening. The beer was a useful prop to ensure no one came to bring him other forms of alcohol.

Vincent disliked losing control.

"Not as many as you have," he returned in another too soft voice to be heard. He wondered what Minx was here for. Obviously nothing work related, but even when factoring in that both of them were off duty and that they were at a party, there were still a handful of options left.

Minx giggled and used the movement to sway on her feet a little more. She leaned a touch too much towards him for the briefest of moments.

Of course. And Vincent definitely wasn't opposed to celebrate with her like that. Minx was quite limber. She also understood it would be nothing but a good time and wouldn't influence their working relationship in any way. Not to mention that complete discretion was guaranteed as well. The benefits of her most certainly not being part of the Department of Administrative Research.

It was his night off. Vincent felt like having fun.

By playing a little hard to get.

"I might've drunk a little too much," Minx whispered too loudly in a conspiratorial tone, the volume more to ensure she was heard over the music and continuing cheers than for her drunken act.

"Fascinating," Vincent said as he kept watching the dancing Castilian and Star.

Minx gave him a too lopsided grin, even as she let her eyes become openly heated.

"Hey, Valentine, want to dance?"

Vincent decided to stop playing coy and turned his head to meet her gaze full on.

"I can't dance," he lied without batting an eye. The Department of Administrative Research required all its members to know a number of formal dances. It wasn't just an excellent way to train balance, the dances themselves were useful to know in a surprising amount of situations.

Of course, there was no possible way Minx could know that he was lying. She most certainly wasn't part of the Department of Administrative Research herself after all.

Minx laughed softly, most of her drunken act falling away in response to his open attention. She gave him a sultry smile.

"Valentine, it's New Year's Eve. Come have fun with me," she invited in an inaudible voice, forcing Vincent to read her lips.

"Dancing isn't what I call having fun," he returned in a voice just audible above the music and cheers to signal his interest. His acceptance made Minx give him a playful wink.

"Depends on the kind of dance," she said in another inaudible voice, before she turned around and started swaying back towards the still cheering crowd on unsteady feet, the drunken act back in full force. Her unsteady balance made her hips swing rather enticingly as well. Completely by chance, of course.

Vincent unobtrusively enjoyed the view a moment longer, before he returned his attention to Castilian and Star as they finished their performance and the crowd exploded into hysterics and wild applause.

It seemed later tonight he would be dancing after all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I present, a change in POV.

**Author's Note:**

> My [tumblr](https://loekas.tumblr.com/)


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